Bitter Coffee
by XIV-Forsaken-Seer
Summary: Of all the things to have expected while drinking in his less-than-preferred beverage, Clint Barton could most certainly say that it wasn't THIS. M for language and foul tempers.
1. Part 1 Section 1: Intro Arc I

**Author's note:** Yes, it has been a rather long while since I last did anything with a story, but life has a way of throwing things into your face and making you pick which battle to give your attention to. As is, this is my newest creation and the one that has most of my focus. I already have at least five arcs written - _hand_ written, mind you - and will upload as I have time and reacquaint myself with the process of uploading chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

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Bitter Coffee Chapter One

It was an old, somewhat established pattern by now that everyone had gotten used to.

Every time Clint Barton showed up, on the ground, to talk to one person or another, or even to get a cup of coffee, Fury's personal recruit, Serena, would watch the archer. So far nothing had happened.

So far. But one could only take being watching like an albino mouse in a scorched field only for so long before _something_ would give.

If there was anyone that could be trusted to get information - by force, discreetly, etc. - then no one was better than Natasha Romanoff. When the red headed woman took a seat next to him, Clint didn't look up from the newspaper article that he was reading. He was used to the former Red Room operative suddenly appearing near him by now. "How'd it go?" A generic question that could apply to anything. Considering the woman's skill set and the people they both worked for, it could apply to anything.

"Surprisingly well." Too easy. It translated quickly in Clint's mind. Someone wanted to keep something hidden.

"That's good though. Less to worry about later." One less path to follow, at least we have a starting point.

Natasha gave him an amused look over the rim of her coffee cup. "You're so optimistic, Barton." Was that just a statement or was that supposed to have another meaning? With the Black Widow it could, possibly, be both. "One would think you wouldn't be after all this time." Clint had to scowl at her.

"There's nothing wrong with being optimistic."  
"I didn't say there was."

Definitely code phrases, new ones too. Clint's mind worked as he watched Natasha take an almost dainty sip from her coffee… or maybe it was a latte today. Lifting his own beverage, Clint winced slightly when lukewarm, almost bitter coffee slid over his tongue.

Despite everything that they had been through together after she had joined SHIELD, Clint was still - rather often - left wondering just what she meant when she spoke. Considering their current conversation and the favor he had asked of her, they were probably still talking about the same subject matter.

Then, like a gunshot, it clicked in his head.

Someone's hiding something important. That was the first meaning. Watch your back. The second meaning. Could be witness protection or a deal like mine.

A slight flicker in the assassin's eyes told him that he had guessed correctly. Damn, he would need to work on his poker face more.

"If you don't like the coffee, Barton, you should have gotten something else." Just in case, don't be predictable with your food. That one translated easily enough.

"Nah, it's cold now. Makes it taste different. Besides, I needed something to wake me up this morning." Nothing to worry about, but had a long night. With someone watching him this intently, he wasn't surprised about her concern. To be honest though, it worried him as well.

Why was this woman paying so much attention to him? He doubted Fury would recruit someone that was going to kill off one of his agents and probably be so damn _obvious_ about it to! Then again, perhaps that was exactly what the ploy was. Make him drop his guard and then kill him when he wasn't expecting a dagger in the back.

Seeing the look that was suddenly levelled at him, Clint had to smile. Yeah, there were days when it paid to have the Black Widow as a friend and sometimes partner.

"Why do you need a wakeup call? Thought birds rose with the sun." Prep for a mission or a woman? It always amazed him at just how well she knew him after a short amount of time. To answer the question, he only chuckled and sipped at his coffee again. The tone of his chuckled earned him a narrowed, but amused look.

No genius or code was necessary to translate that.

But a genius _was_ necessary to figure out the woman that suddenly strolled across the room, grabbed something small, and then disappeared.

"Talk about stealth." Who taught her? Clint stated blandly, trying to spot his stalker. He'd give credit where it was due, and that woman had great stealth.

But no one got passed Natasha, and it had been the Black Widow that had told _him_ about this Serena.

"No one's confessed to training a red head." Not my circles, former or current. That could easily be taken two ways. One, that she wasn't a former Hydra or Red Room agent - God knows that small groups of sympathizers would have survived to this day and age - or two, that she was and no one was talking because she had a mission. Either way it wasn't looking all that good for the recruit.

"Time to ask Fury." The man wouldn't have personally recruited someone without having done some extensive research on said person beforehand.

The look Natasha gave him spoke volumes about his idea and he only shrugged at her, his lips twitching slightly. If you got a better idea, then share, was his silent rebuttal.

They both knew it'd be easier to stick a pissed off cat into a bag than it would be getting a straight answer out of one Nicholas Fury, Director of SHIELD. The only real difference between the cat and Fury was that one would result in less physical injuries than the other, but both would be a headache and a hassle.

Finishing off his coffee - now a cold, bitter beverage - Clint grabbed the newspaper he was reading and tossed both into the nearest trashcan. The archer didn't need to look in order to know that a certain red head was watching him leave, or that his red head was watching the other red head.

There was something about his watcher that rang little, tiny bells in his head, but Clint just couldn't figure out what or why that was. Red hair and blue eyes weren't common features, nor the long, thin body. If he were honest, it wasn't her _physical_ form that made him think he should know her, but… Clint had to scowl at his own thoughts.

The woman knew him, that much he was certain of, but how did _he_ know _her_? The only bit of information he had on the woman was her first name, and it might not even be her _real_ name, and a last initial… maybe. His own mission records might show some sort of connection, but he wouldn't hold much hope.

It was why he had Natasha digging into the files and records. She would be able to figure out the connection quicker and easier than he could. Hopefully.


	2. Part 1 Section 2: Intro Arc I

**Author's note:** Well, I am actually quite surprised at the amount of people that have actually managed to not only find, but stuck around and read the first chapter of this newest plot bunny of mine.

To be honest, I actually made this story for IvoryCrawler, simply because I had promised her a crossover, and then spent a couple years unable to figure out _how_ to write it. This is my... I think my fifth attempt at such, and so far, it rather pleases me. Hopefully it will please you, my readers, just as much as it pleases me, IvoryCrawler, and our other, non-fanfic writer friend.

With that, I give you Bitter Coffee

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

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Bitter Coffee Chapter Two

 _Someone should call me a psychic_. Was the main thought going through Clint's head. Bagging a pissed off cat _would_ have been easier than talking to Fury.

"Sir, with all due respect, she is all but _stalking_ me. I think I have the right to at least be told _why_." That didn't seem to be asking for much, not even any bits of personal information - like say, a damn _name_ \- that Clint could use against her.

"And with all due respect, Agent Barton." _Oh boy. Not good._ A clipped tone from Fury was _never_ a good sign for things to come. "You have nothing to worry about from her. As a promise, her information is highly classified and kept off the books, so tell Romanoff to stop digging." Clint winced at that.

Trust the old spy to know about _that_. "It wouldn't be the first time we had a hit from the inside." A sore point to bring up, but a statistical fact.

"I _know_ what the facts _are_ , Barton." _Back off while you still have legs, Clint._ Self-preservation was starting to scream at him, but his stubborn nature and his _need_ to know about a possible threat kept him in the office. "Do _not_ push this, that is an order." For a man with only one eye, Fury could give a grown man a look that made him want to run with his tail between his legs.

"What makes you trust her?" Of all the possibilities in the world, why was this _one_ woman good enough - or important enough - to be so damn classified that Fury wouldn't write down _any_ information?

Don't get him wrong, Clint was fully aware he was pushing the man hard on a topic he was fully intent on keeping close to the vest, but it had been _months_ now since this had started. "I'm not asking for specifics, sir, I'm only asking for just enough to not reach for an arrow and my bow." Or any weapon really.

The man settled back slightly and Clint gave off a soft sound of relief. Looks like he'd get to live to see another mission. "I trust her only for as long as I know her motives, Agent Barton. Right now she watches you because you remind her of someone she lost."

"Oh." _I'm an ass_. His paranoia had given him a foot-in-mouth situation. "And you confirmed that." It was a statement, not a question, and more than a tad bit sheepish.

Fury nodded. "I did. Everything she told me that could be confirmed, has been confirmed." Even Clint knew that not _everything_ about a person's life could be confirmed with documents and people. "Ignore her, Barton. She'll stop in a few more days."

Probably when the grief doesn't choke as much and when she goes on missions. It translated easily enough in his mind what Fury _really_ meant was going to happen.

"Yes sir." But Clint _couldn't_ ignore her now. He most likely _knew_ the person she had lost, and maybe letting her know the person fell in the line of duty would help.

Not everything in SHIELD was nice and cozy, after all. Clint could name a few, relatively minor groups that had taken out a few agents, and even a few of the 'costumed villains' variety that had been popping up recently and taking out good men and women. Hell, some of them didn't even _have_ costumes. Just lots of money to throw around.

Maybe taking the rookie agent under his wing would do everyone a bit of good. And if worst came to worst, he'd be there to take her out.

And if he wasn't, then Natasha would be.

Walking down the halls, Clint kept his eyes open and his ears trained for any sign of either woman. He didn't think Natasha would still be around after their talk, if only because she often had long term missions lines up that only few women had the right skill set of training or temperament - or all the above - for. And he knew that Serena would fine him - from across a room - if he were in the open.

It was time to, officially, introduce himself to the woman.

The best place to be seen - in the open - right now was a lobby. Especially since Clint knew he sometimes when to the lobby and did a bit of people watching.

It also helped that the lobby of the SHIELD building only had a few vantage points, all of which Clint knew _just_ how to keep an eye on while looking casual about it.

Of course, this was all assuming that the woman _knew_ he was still on down time, in the building still, _and_ that _she_ hadn't left for the day. A lot of factors were still not named yet, and Clint would have to hope that he wouldn't have to _establish_ a pattern in order to get a conversation. If he did he could start thinking the woman was paranoid on top of all the other things he thought she was. And so far, the picture he had of her was _not_ pretty, flattering, or something anyone other than Natasha would take as a compliment.


	3. Part 1 Section 3: Intro Arc I

**Author's Note** : Well now, if that stats I've been seeing are anything to go by, you, my dear readers, are very much enjoying my work. I fully intend on updating once every two days **at the earliest**. Those words are in bold, just to make sure that everyone can see it and _not_ pester me about 'when can you update'. Hasn't happened yet, but I'd rather nip that in the bud before it happens.

To answer the questions that are, no doubt swirling around in your minds at the moment, I will address two things of grave importance:

1\. You can find this story on AO3, under the exact same title, but under the username of **my dear friend** : ivorycrawler. Also to reiterate, this story was, _originally_ , made for her viewing pleasure only, but she has since then managed to convince me to share it with all of you.

2\. Yes, this _is_ a crossover. To be honest, it might be obvious to me _because_ I wrote this, but you, my dear readers, should already be guessing as to who Serena is. She is an OC for a rather good reason. However, the _officially_ start of anything being _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ bluntly stated will be in a few more chapters.

Overall, this story has a rather **slow build up** , simply because I need to flesh out characters, make sure I have a good grip on said characters, and make sure that they all interact with each other and have enough screen time.

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Three

First contact was made three weeks after Clint had changed his pattern. Actually, first contact had been made when he had been in the middle of drinking coffee and working on designs for a new arrow, maybe even a few fun modifications.

One second he had been alone at his table, pen tapping thoughtfully and rhythmically with coffee in his mouth and the next the pen was gone, the woman was across from him, and the coffee was equal parts down his throat and up his nose.

Oh, and the paper he was scribbling on was in the woman's grip. Along with his pen.

Thumping on his chest with a closed fist, Clint did his best to make the coffee go down its proper route while the elusive red head ignored him, her attention on his schematics. Suddenly Clint could understand just why some of the other agents were joking about calling her a ninja.

"Figured out how to swallow yet?" It was the first time he was hearing her speak, and the first thing he noticed was that there was an odd, almost musical lilt to her words, even though her tone said she was bored.

Swallowing hard, Clint stared at her. "You're younger than I thought." Probably not the best thing to say to a woman that could, more likely than not, take his head off with a paperclip… or a paper plate, if a paperclip wasn't nearby.

Eyes the color of a babbling brook turned to him, amusement clearly reflected back at him. "Is that a bad thing?" Yep, definitely a musical lilt to her voice.

"No, just… surprising." SHIELD didn't make a habit of recruiting people that looked like mischievous teens. To be honest, Clint felt like he needed to make sure he still had his wallet _in_ his pocket.

"You changing your pattern is surprising." The woman looked at him. "You go from avoiding me to trying to draw me out. Something you wanted to say?" Okay, he had to give her credit for noticing that much. Only Natasha, Coulson, and Fury had noticed, and he wasn't sure who disapproved more; Natasha or Fury.

Sighing, Clint leaned forward in his seat, lacing his fingers together on top of the table. "Yeah." _How to put this?_ "I'm sorry for your loss." Seemed like the best place to start.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. The amused expression was replaced with a cold, stone-like expression. If Clint didn't have the training that he did, he would have missed the brief flicker of grief and _pain_ that had been in her eyes before they went flat and cold, maybe with a slight tint of anger as well if he read it right.

"Fury told you." The person must have been _very_ close to her if her tone was anything to go by. "And here I thought I could trust him." I don't trust easily.

"He didn't say anything." Clint rushed to the director's defense. "Well, only that I remind you of someone you lost… and that I should leave you alone." This was _not_ going very well. Perhaps he should have started this off differently, but he wasn't the type to beat around the bush or play games when it was important. "I didn't mean to bring up old memories."

Maybe he should have waited until Natasha got back from whatever her mission was before he started on this particular thing.

The expression that could have been a better wall than the one in Berlin broke and Clint was able to see the raw, heart-wrenching _grief_. "Everything brings up the memories. Two years and I'm still choking."

Clint didn't need to mentally translate that. Didn't have to. The meaning was plain enough to hear _and_ see. His heart reached out towards her, and he could see her trying so very hard to not let the tear escape, especially not in a room full of spies, agents, and whatever else SHIELD had managed to get its long fingered hands on.

Pushing his chair back, Clint got up. "C'mon. Let's go to the gun range." People could say whatever they wanted about Clint, but he wasn't stupid or even emotionally challenged. Sometimes the best way to deal with emotions, especially anger and grief, was to just shoot something.

Apparently he wasn't the only one that felt that way. The look full of relief and gratitude she gave him managed to make him squirm just as much as if she _had_ started to cry. "Fury still has most of my weapons. I'm only allowed to have a set of throwing knives." At least he wouldn't have to show her how to load a gun and handle the recoil.

"What weapons do you use?" _Note to self: Keep her away from Natasha. No need to see who can use a knife better._ Though if things between the two women stayed cold he would introduce the two to that concept, just to get them on somewhat friendly terms. Hopefully that wasn't something he'd have to do.

"Mostly throwing knives and studded gloves." She shrugged carelessly. "Most times I'll use a bow instead." Clint stopped and felt her bump into his back with a soft sound.

What? Had he heard right?

Turning to look at her, Clint saw the confused look. "You use a bow? An actual bow?" There was a flicker of amusement in those eyes and Clint felt the small knot between his shoulders loosen.

"Yes, an actual bow. I prefer the long bow, but I'll use a recurve if I have to. Compounds I have yet to try." Suddenly she placed her hand out. "I'm Serena, Serena B."

Clint couldn't help but grin as he shook her hand. "I'm Clint, Clint Barton, and I know where they keep the compounds if you still want to try one." The mischievous grin that he got in response was answer enough. "Serena, I think we're going to get along just fine."

He just might have to thank Fury for bringing in another archer. Things were getting a bit boring around here lately.


	4. Part 1 Section 4: Intro Arc I

**Author's Note** : If I get enough requests for it, I might either write and then type, or just type up some of the odd or funny things that get mentioned in past or future chapters. I already have ivorycrawler requesting a few one-shots about something that happens in this chapter, but before I actually get around to writing it, I want to see if anyone else is interested in reading about what happens behind the scenes that only vaguely gets mentioned in the story itself. When I actually upload this chapter for your viewing pleasure my dear readers, I will let _you_ decide.

Until then, here is another character that we will see a great deal of in future chapters. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter as much as you have the previous chapters.

Due to continued pestering by one particular reviewer in regards to the _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ , the only thing I can say is this: **this is a story with a slow build up**. With that, once again said, I will also say this: **I have already written these chapters out and typed them up, and as such the introduction of certain characters has already been made.**

Author's Notes are here for a reason, _read them._

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

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Bitter Coffee Chapter Four

Natasha was damned certain that it wasn't just an overly fond love of bows and arrows that the two shared. In fact, Natasha had been watching the two have a prank war for the past two weeks.

Well, not really a _war_ per say.

Tilting her head to the side, Natasha watched Clint as he ruffled Serena's hair, making the red strands fall out of the beautiful bun it had been in, and then dropped a harmless dye bomb in the younger red head's coffee.

Her mission had ended rather early and she had been back for two weeks now and she had noticed a few things upon her return.

One, Clint now seemed to have some sort of rivalry with Serena when it came to the gun range. Natasha couldn't even _count_ the number of minor complaints she had heard about the two, who didn't seem to understand the 'gun' in 'gun range'. If it could be used as a weapon, then no target paper was safe if the two went in together.

The Black Widow wasn't sure if the story about the potato gun was real or not, and she was certain she was better off _not_ knowing.

Two, nerf guns and nerf darts had, officially, been banned and the vents had been closed all over the building with pretty much everything but a blow torch. No one said much about _why_ that was the case, only that Barton and Serena were the reason.

A little more digging on _that_ matter had her reading a report where one of them had gotten Fury, on the patch, with a nerf dart.

That was all she had read about _that_ incident.

Three, the two engaged in practical office jokes only when Serena looked as if she was getting lost in her thoughts. The more lost - blank, really - she looked, the bolder the prank Clint played on her.

The dynamics in SHIELD Headquarters had changed in the five months she had been gone. Clint might have made a new friend, maybe even a new field partner, but until Serena got the Black Widow's stamp of approval, Natasha would make damn certain the woman didn't stay around long enough to escalate from pranks to something worse.

After all, it didn't take much effort to slip cyanide into coffee instead of food dye.

Natasha wasn't surprised to see that it was Clint who noticed her approach first. Serena glanced at her, took her measure the way only another woman could, and nodded a polite, but cool greeting. The earlier humor was gone from the other woman's expression. Replacing it was a cautious wariness, like that of a predator coming across something unfamiliar.

Good, she should be wary of the Black Widow. Fury might have recruited her, she might have Hawkeye's friendship, but the Black Widow was the assassin no one saw coming. She owed Clint more than anyone would be able to understand, and Natasha wasn't going to let a pretty face be his death.

Smiling politely, she took a seat, and watched Clint grin. "Nat, this is Serena. I'd have introduced you earlier but I never seem to be able to find you." Are you avoiding me?

"You know how it is after a long mission. Reports, check ins, equipment checks, tests." No, but I've done some watching. It pleased her, amused her really, to see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he was back to being friendly.

It was another set of blue eyes that Natasha was keeping track of. Those blue eyes bounced back and forth between her and Clint, a slight frown tugged at full, pale lips. Yes, the woman knew a second conversation was happening, but she didn't seem to know what it was about.

So Clint didn't bring her into the fold. There was hope yet for the man with a weakness for redheads and pretty faces.

Reaching over the table, Natasha held out her hand to Serena for a handshake. "I'm Natasha. I'm sure you've heard rumors about me." One could tell many things about a person just from their hands alone. Natasha was hoping for a few answers, especially since Fury had ordered her to stop digging through records for information.

The guarded look she was given told Natasha that this Serena knew about that particular trick as well.

Interesting.

Didn't stop her from grasping Natasha's hand in a firm grip and shaking it politely. "Black Widow." The way Serena said it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Even Clint took a slight step back.

"I've met a few of your sisters." The cool look aimed at her from glacial eyes made it clear what the context of _those_ meetings had been.

"Oh? Did they play nice?" Clint shot her a look, but Natasha ignored it, her attention on Serena as their hands went back to their proper places.

Serena gave her a smile that was all teeth and more snarl. "They decided I could make better use of their guns than they could." And _that_ told Natasha that this woman was dangerous and _would_ kill.

But Natasha needed to know if it was something that would happen by provocation or by will.

"And why'd they go after you?" Serena gave her a darkly amused, almost secret smile. She leaned forward as if it _was_ a secret. Natasha found herself leaning forward to try and see if it would be whispered or if it actually _was_ a secret, then the fewer who knew, the better.

"Because I have something their handler wanted." With that, Natasha watched the woman get up and leave, taking the pranked cup of coffee with her.

Almost immediately it was Clint taking the recently vacated seat, a slightly dark look on his face. "Nat, what the hell?" No translation necessary there.

"Do you already trust her?" It was something she needed to know. "She just admitted to being a killer, one who _has_ killed _professionally_ trained killers." Something flickered over Clint's face, something that made her eyes narrow. "Clint, not everyone that you find needs saving."

"She does." Something had _definitely_ happened while she was away.

"What makes you say that, Barton?" _You_ better _wince._ The vindictive thought was in her head before she could refrain herself.

"It's what Fury told me."

" _Fury_? _Director_ Fury told you she needed saving?" Clint winced at her tone, just as much as her words. _Good_. Natasha thought.

"No. He, she, I - dammit Nat!" At least he still had his temper. Meant he wasn't _too_ far gone.

Clint leaned across the table, towards her. His arms were, also, on the table and his hands were already gesturing a bit. "Look. Apparently she confessed everything to Fury before she joined and everything checked out. The only reason why we can't find anything on her is because he promised to keep it all off record. Follow so far?"

"Yes, Clint, I'm following your little story." And so far it _was_ a story. Until Natasha saw proof and held it in her hands that Serena wasn't out to kill her partner, Natasha would always be doubtful of the woman's loyalty to SHIELD. "Doesn't explain why you trust her or why you've been playing these games with her."

"The only thing Fury was willing to confirm, to me, is that she lost someone important and that _I_ remind her of that person." He wasn't finished. Natasha could see that much. "I think it was her lover."

"Everyone loses someone, Clint." She would know. How many people over the years had she lost for one reason, one cause, or another?

"Not everyone still bursts out crying at just being _reminded_ of the loss, Nat." Clint looked her in the eyes. "And the loss isn't recent either, Nat. At least two years."  Since the loss.

Leaning back in her chair, Natasha watched him. "And you think she was truly in love with this person that she lost." The part of her that liked to occasionally read romance books found this to be almost romantic and heart-breaking. The part of her that was forever the Black Widow, on the other hand, didn't buy it. "Too easy of a story, Clint."

"I know, but two years ago was when an asshole named Trickshot was killing off SHIELD agents. Raw anger was in Clint eyes. Too raw.

"You knew Trickshot or you were close to someone he killed." It was the only conclusion she was drawing.

"Worse." Clint glared at her, but it wasn't aimed _at_ her. "Trickshot's real name was Barney Barton, and he was my _brother_."

* * *

 **Author's Note 2** : Author's Notes are here for a reason, _read them._ If you have _not_ read the one above this chapter, go up and read it. Especially _you_ , my repeat reviewer that is _badgering_ me about _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.


	5. Part 2 Section 1: Curiosity Arc I

**Author's Note** : Unfortunately, this chapter is... disappointingly short compared to the other chapters before it, and most likely also in comparison to the ones that will follow it. However, this chapter will probably set off a round of cheers with some of you that have either read it, followed it, favored it, reviewed it, or some combination of the above.

The only thing I ask, is that if you like it enough to follow or favor it, drop a suggestion on how to improve in the reviews. No, I'm not angling for more reviews. the _only_ thing I'm angling for is to be able to improve my writing and be able to keep everyone as believable as possible as that everyone, myself and you my dear readers, can still either love or hate them as much as we did when we were _first_ introduced to them in the movies ( _Avengers_ ) or the books ( _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ )

Also, before there is any confusion, I will be following the timeline of the _Avengers_ ' movies with more input from them than the _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_. The reasoning for this will become obvious in later chapters, but the main one is that, put simply, there's more room for me and Serena to play with in the _Avengers_ timeline than there is in the _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ one.

Don't worry though. There _will_ be more content from Percy and co!

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Five

The only time of day that could be considered 'quiet' at Camp Half-Blood was when it was dark out and everyone had, mostly, retired to their cabins.

Tonight though, Annabeth couldn't help but walk along the edge of the river that was in the camp grounds. Yes, things were going great in terms of 'still alive' and even the lack of fighting that happened normally and naturally between siblings of each cabin seemed to have made everyone a bit more relaxed.

She couldn't help but think back to the days when Luke was still part of the camp, happy to lead the Hermes' Cabin and winning as many of the games as possible. Annabeth especially missed the days when _she_ had been part of Hermes' Cabin.

Altogether they might have been thieves and helpless pickpockets, but the children of Hermes' Cabin had always been fun.

Stopping at the lake shore, Annabeth gazed down into her dark reflection. On nights like these, when everything was as calm as things _could_ be for a group of demigods, Annabeth wished things were like how they used to be.

"Wise girl?" Somehow the daughter of Athena wasn't surprised to know that Percy Jackson, the sole occupant of the Poseidon Cabin - at the moment - and the subject of a prophecy, had managed to find her.

"What, Sea-weed brain?" She hadn't meant for her words to come out the way they had, but tonight the daughter of wisdom wanted to be alone with her memories.

"Who's Serena?" The name tore though her almost as badly as the way Thalia's or Luke's name did. Closing her eyes, Annabeth let out a slow breath.

"Where'd you hear that name?" It had been a _very_ long time since she had heard that name. _Only two years_. Her mind wouldn't let her forget details like that. Hard to forget the face that was associated with that name. Harder still to forget the memories both name and face brought to the front of her mind.

"I… saw it." Turning to face him, Annabeth could see the sheepishly honest look on his face. "It was kinda carved into a bow over at the armory. I… was trying to practice and I found this bow but I couldn't even string it and - "

"We still have that thing?" Annabeth would have thought that all of _her_ personal effects had been discarded by now. Then again, it _was_ a bow. A rather good one too.

"Huh?" Smiling, Annabeth focused on the clueless son of Poseidon.

"She used to be a camper. Serena… she had monster slaying skills that no one could match." Those had been the days of laughter and friendly competition. "She and the Ares' Cabin were always going at it. Chiron was always having to step in cause it almost always got out of hand."

"Wow, must have really bothered Clarisse."

"They were friends, so not really." It was easier talking about her than Annabeth had thought it'd be. "Let me start at the beginning."

Everything made more sense from the beginning.


	6. Part 2 Section 2: Curiosity Arc I

**Author's Note:** Yes, my dear readers, you are not mistaken! This is chapter six of Bitter Coffee! Some of you might be a bit concerned at the speed of updates, but I assure you, the chapters are slow in writing and even slower to get typed up. Enjoy the fast updates while you can, because they won't last very long.

Also, this is, disappointingly, a short chapter. I am not all that happy with the length of it, but adding any more to it when I was originally working on it, and even when I was editing it _long_ before I was posting it, I _still_ was not happy with the length... but i couldn't figure out how else to add to it, simply because this was all that _needed_ to be said for this chapter.

With that in mind, I present to you, my dear readers, Bitter Coffee.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Six

It was hard not to be impressed or awed by watching her spar with the members of the Ares Cabin. To Annabeth, it was like watching a ballerina and a bunch of bulls.

Even from her spot behind the pillar of the arena, she could tell that the red headed girl was having fun as she danced around the members of the Ares Cabin. It might be just because of her angle, but it looked as if the ballerina was teaching the whole cabin how to avoid getting hit or to cover up their blind spots.

Annabeth might be new to this, particular, chapter of her life now, but she could tell that the girl down below was doing fairly well at teaching. She was also able to tell that the girl obviously knew how to handle her practice staff. Annabeth had to grin when she watched the girl use the staff to block one strike and trip up one of the other campers.

"Having fun?" The playful voice whispered into her ear, making her gasp and whirl around. Annabeth relaxed when she realized it was Luke standing behind her. His blue eyes twinkled in amusement at her before they slid down to the group of people below. "She was the one that fired the arrows." The ones that had given them just enough time to cross the boundary. "It also got her claimed. After three years of being in our cabin." The Hermes Cabin.

"Oh." It was good to know who it was that had helped them, even better to know that now she was claimed… but three years? "Do you know her name, Luke?" Now more than ever Annabeth wanted to introduce herself.

"Yep." Luke gave her a sly look and help up a hand. Dangling from his index finger was either a large locket or a pocket watch. Annabeth's breath caught in her throat as she realized just _how_ Luke would have gotten his hands on that. "Her name's Serena. No last name." He supplied before Annabeth could object to his methods of getting information. "C'mon, let's go introduce ourselves."


	7. Part 2 Section 3: Curiosity Arc I

**Author's note:** I hadn't even realized that it had been four days since I updated until I actually hopped onto the site. I apologize for the delay, but well... real life has a way of sneaking up on you and making you prioritize. College is starting back up soon, and as such, I am already starting to prepare for going back, but once it actually starts back up I don't believe I'll be updating as frequently or have the chapters written as far ahead of time as I'd like.

Also, I am dabbling in writing an original story after doing something called a 'sprint run' with my writer friend. Not ivorycrawler, but my other friend. She found my mix-mashing of words interesting enough to ask me to continue, and, well, what could I say?

Once again, sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but as it is, here is chapter 7!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Seven

"Wait, wait. Back up. Luke _pickpocketed_ her?" Percy couldn't help but grin at that. He might hate Luke with an intensity he had never felt towards anyone, not even Smelly Gabe, but that was just something that _any_ child of Hermes would have done.

"Yeah." Annabeth smiled and looked up at the star strewn sky. "Then we went down and introduced ourselves. And she only had an amused look on her face when Luke told her he had 'found' the locket on the ground and asked around."

"What happened next?" The memory seemed to be a good one for her, if only because a laugh seemed ready to spill out of her.

Annabeth turned and grinned at him. "She said that was odd because she had stuffed it into her pocket _for_ him to grab! Said he 'didn't have as quick fingers' as he'd like to think. Then _she_ pulled out _his_ necklace. ' _This_ is how it's done!' "Annabeth laughed out. "Luke, oh I've never seen that expression on his face before and the Ares' Cabin couldn't _stand_ when she said that!"

Percy joined in on her laughter. He could picture what it was that she was describing. "Oh man, I wish I had seen it!" A child of Hermes getting pickpocketed? And _not_ knowing about it?

"Yeah. It sparked off a pickpocketing war between those two. It was one of the few events that got so out of control that the whole camp joined in and Chiron couldn't stop it."

"How'd it end?" Percy couldn't _imagine_ Chiron _not_ being able to keep the campers in line if something like that had happened.

"It ended when someone tried to pick Mr. D's pockets." Annabeth grinned as she said it, and it made Percy wonder if _she_ had been that 'someone'. "After that, they were as close as Hermes and Apollo."

And it was there that Percy felt there was some sort of hidden connection between Luke and this Serena, and it had nothing to do with the relationship _between_ their fathers.


	8. Part 3 Section 1: Budapest Arc

**Author's note:** Okay, wow, yeah, late update. In my defense, I've been having issues with migraines, insomnia, and a college project. At least there's a chapter here, though! Also, if there are any typos in the story, _please_ tell me. My keyboard isn't responding as well as it used to, and while I think I got most or all the major ones, I'm fairly certain that there are a few that I missed. If you find one, my dear readers, try and give me the whole sentence so that I can fix it later after I finish this story and go back through to make it easier to read.

Isn't that half the reason for posting stories with the option of having reviews?

As it is, here is Chapter Eight, and in which we get some idea of what _other_ secrets are being kept hidden! ^.^

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Eight

"How was the mission?" For the first time since he had met Serena B - he _would_ figure out what that stood for - Clint didn't jump at the sound of the musical voice. Instead, he simply dropped his bags to the floor and collapsed into the nearest chair with a deep sigh and closed his eyes. "That bad?" And there was the rarely heard concern as he heard the woman take a seat in the chair next to his.

"Something like that." Clint muttered out as he tried to relax. "Thought it'd be just another normal mission, but trust Coulson to be the weird, 'crazy mojo' charm." As far as he was concerned, Coulson _was_ a 'crazy mojo' charm.

Serena laughed softly at that and Clint smiled. He would be the first to admit that she was beautiful. The same way that Natasha was beautiful, but he couldn't say that he felt anything towards her beyond simple friendship. Knowing that, he had made it his mission to do what he could to keep the shadows - as he called her darker, almost constantly depressed or sad state to be - out of her eyes.

"It can't have been _half_ as bad as you're thinking." Now it was Clint's turn to laugh.

"Kidding me? Every time Coulson shows up, it's like _something_ always happens that no one thought would happen or that no one would have thought possible. Just take a look at that Stark guy! Soon as Coulson goes over and the man comes out as being this new hero called 'Iron Man'. That was just the most _publicized_ event too!" It warmed him the way coffee - fresh, _hot_ coffee - did to hear her laugh. So he might be exaggerating a little bit, but if it helped her - and his guilt - then he wouldn't mind playing the part of class clown.

"It couldn't have been _half_ as bad as you're making it seem." Serena leaned forward, elbow on knee and cheek on knuckles. "Besides, if _I_ remember things right, weren't you the one that was complaining that nothing interesting would happen?" Well damn, she had him there. The amused look and the mischievous grin she was giving him told Clint that he _really_ needed to work on his poker face.

"Well, yeah, but still! How was guarding a group of scientists while they looked over an immoveable _hammer_ supposed to be exciting?" Normally he wouldn't be telling her _specific_ details, but her clearance level matched his and Natasha's now. He wasn't sure if that had always been the case of if he was only just now being _allowed_ to know those little, but important details, but right now it felt _good_ to be able to explain to someone a bit more expressive than Natasha about his mission.

As if on cue Serena raised an eyebrow at him. It might be just him, but that one gesture made her seem more… aristocratic, somehow. "A hammer? Really Clint? You couldn't come up with something better?" Clink scowled at the drawled words.

"I'm not joking. The thing was basically a block of metal on a wrapped stick with a loop at the end of it. What _else_ would you call it?"

"Over compensation?"

Never before was Clint glad that he had decided to forgo his cup of coffee today. "I can't believe you said that." Even though he hadn't been drinking or eating anything, Clint still had to work to dislodge the clump of air that decided it wanted to stay in his throat and not complete the journey to his lungs.

"Can't believe you didn't expect it." Serena gave him a mischievous grin that was just a touch smug. "But _do_ continue with at your narrative." She waved a hand at him, looking more like an aristocrat trying to pass for a 'peasant' than a fellow archer that was knocking out his scores and records.

"Not a story, but we won't get into that." He sat up straight in his chair now. "Then this guy comes in after we've quarantined the area, and damn Serena. His moves reminded me of the things I've seen you do." Clint would be the first to admit that he wasn't the best at reading people, but he saw _something_ flicker in her eyes. "Anyway, Mr. Blond and Muscled works his way through all the agents between him and the hammer and tries to lift it. Doesn't even _budge_."

Whatever the look might have been, it was fully gone now and replaced with a relaxed amusement.

Interesting.

"Nothing interesting happened for a few hours after Coulson chatted with him and then let him go, but during the day this _thing_ shows up along with three people that knew the blond. Apparently they're friends, but the thing, it was a weird metal suit of armor that shot laser beams - don't give me that look - and was just destroying everything until the blond guy walks towards it and it flings him a few feet into the ground." Clint winced with her as he remembered that event. "Thought for sure the poor bastard was dead, but then that hammer comes flying into his hand and I don't know _what_ really happened, but next thing I know there's a freak storm and he's walking away from a broken pile of metal."

Even now Clint had to shake his head at it. It didn't escape his notice that she didn't seem surprised at his description of events. One of these days he was going to get some straight answers out of her or Fury.

A great deal of alcohol might be needed though.

"The kicker to it all? The guy called himself _Thor_." _Finally, some surprise!_ There was also a very clear glint of recognition there as well.

"Like the mythology?" _Well played._

Clint made a motion with his head and shrugged. "Apparently not quite as mythical as we all thought. Kinda makes you wonder what _else_ is real."

"It does, doesn't it?" Clint had to frown slightly at that. He _knew_ that tone. Had heard it from Natasha and Fury - and occasionally Coulson - enough times to know that it meant something was being kept from him, and that it was - probably - important.

Serena gave him a smile. "Well, clear out your bags and repack, Clint. Fury told me to grab you and head to Budapest. We're going to meet Natasha there." With that the woman stood up, patted him on the shoulder and started off.

Groaning, Clint slumped in his chair. "No rest for the wicked, huh?"


	9. Part 3 Section 2: Budapest Arc

**Author's Note:** I give you all the very first arc of Bitter Coffee! Lo and behold, here is my take on that two-liner from _Avengers_. For those that don't remember it went like this:

"This is just like Budapest!" - Natasha

"You and I remember Budapest differently." - Clint

And this is when they were shooting at the Chitauri in New York. As such, here is the beginning of what _I_ think happened... of course, with my own little crossover twist to it as well.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Nine

While she was happy to know that Clint would be helping her on this mission, Natasha wasn't sure if she should be pleased or annoyed that she would get the chance to keep an eye on Serena as well. Due to the way the mission was going to go down just to be able to achieve the objective, Natasha would settle with 'Fury knows what he's doing'.

However, if Serena even _twitched_ wrong Natasha wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in her brain.

For now though, Natasha contented herself with watching the woman give her weapons one last check over before slipping them into the gym bag. Natasha would admit that the woman knew how to make a believable disguise. She looked over at Clint, who was attempting to get his knot into a passable bow tie.

"Why is it men have no idea how to do the simple things?" Natasha walked over to Clint and shoved his hands away, intent on fixing the mess and showing him how to properly make a bow.

"Because if they did they wouldn't need women." Clint scowled at that. Natasha, on the other hand, felt her lips twitch slightly as she looked at the other red head over Clint's shoulder.

Perhaps Natasha didn't have to trust her in order to like her or even to joke around with her. "You might be onto something there, Serena."

Pausing in her packing, Serena gave Natasha a surprised look. "I suppose?" It was odd to see the normally very confident woman looking unsure of herself.

"First time you've been openly nice to her." Clint whispered into her ear. Oh, well, that would probably do it. Wouldn't mean much though. Natasha had no intention of trusting the woman.

"And that, _dear husband_ is how you make a presentable bow tie." Their guise of a husband/wife pair at this event would be their ticket to getting close to the target.

Why was it that those with money and power always wanted someone else's wife if she was pretty enough? It was the one question Natasha doubted she'd ever get an answer to.

"Hey Clint, do you have that thing you're supposed to have?" Serena questioned suddenly. "You know, that thing that'll give me an inside view of the place so that I don't shoot someone I'm not supposed to?"

"Oh shit." Clint dashed out of the room faster than a tuxedo should have allowed. It might have been an actual double check, but Natasha had seen the way Serena had kept her gaze on _her_.

And she didn't disappoint.

The moment the door closed behind Clint, Serena was walking towards her. Natasha braced herself, just in case this was the moment she had suspected it would be.

Ice blue eyes settled on her face. "You don't know my history and I don't know yours, but let's get one thing straight: Clint is far too important to me, for reasons you wouldn't understand, for me to watch him get hurt, or worse, because you're too busy watching for my dagger. I'm not going to kill you, not unless you give me a damned good reason to."

"Then that goes for you as well." Natasha drawled out. She felt a small amount of relief to know that she had one less thing to worry about for tonight.

Tonight, at least, she would know that she could trust Serena the way everyone else around her seemed to. They watched each other coldly for a while before Serena turned and went back to her bag.

Anyone that had seen the whole movement would say or at least thing that the younger red head was, or had been, a dancer of some sort. To Natasha, those gliding graceful motions told her that Serena had a steady growth, was confident in her motions, and most importantly, that she knew how to move her body to her own commands, subconsciously _or_ consciously.

Her analysis was cut short when Clint walked back into the room, trying to place a small pin onto his lapel. "Found it and got it! Thanks for reminding me, Serena!" Clint grinned and looked over at them. Natasha could see it in his eyes though. He _knew_ that he had been _sent_ out of the room. She gave him a discreet shake of her head. Explain later.

In response Clint blinked at her. The man probably already knew _why_ he had been sent out, but communication was important in this mission.

"No problem Clint." Serena smiled at him, and for the first time, Natasha caught the glint of sorrow, old sorrow, in her eyes. "Just remember that tonight you're both my spotters." A mischievous look covered up the pain as if it had never been there. "Try not to get _too_ caught up in the acting, yeah?"

Clint sputtered and flushed and Natasha chuckled slightly. Yes, she could see why everyone seemed to like her. "Then you better not get too distracted." For tonight, they understood each other, and tonight alone they knew they could trust each other.

All for Clint, the man that was trying so hard to make them at least get along.


	10. Part 3 Section 3: Budapest Arc

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! If you're still here by this point then I am well and truly surprised and delighted! To be honest, I just might throw in some extra chapters if I feel it's necessary to the story. I don't feel _quite_ right doing that, seeing as to how I already so many chapters finished and typed up already, but if you guys feel that some things _need_ to get explained as the story continues. Drop a comment in the review box about what needs to get explained, and why. I don't want an essay, I just want _maybe_ a total of two or three sentences so that I can not only _understand_ why you want those answers, but also to make _sure_ that I answered it.

In chapter 9 we saw the beginning of the Budapest mission, which is also where Natasha and Serena made a kinda/sorta deal to worry about each other _later_. In this chapter we get a glimpse into Clint's side of how the mission is going! As well as some slight hitches that may or may not get explained later on.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Ten

For the life of him, Clint just didn't understand the appeal behind throwing lavish parties. Sure he understood _parties_ , but this was more along the lines of things he used to hear about as a kid growing up in the circus.

And didn't _that_ just bring up memories? Clint was damned sure that he wasn't going to let himself go down that road. _Not now, not ever._ Yes, there were a few pleasant memories from back then, but they were tainted in a way that he would rather not think about for any reason.

Bringing himself back to the present, Clint smiled at the person that had approached them. _Marcus Smith, of the Smith Family, servants and bodyguards to the Vladimir Family, tyrants of the region._ This was going to be fun.

"Mr. Jones! It is good to meet you tonight. Ah, this must be your lovely wife." Reach over, Marcus boldly took Natasha's hands and kissed her knuckles. For her part, Natasha only smiled charmingly at him. "Forgive me, but might I know your name?"

"This is my wife, Jessica." Clint introduced her on the code name they had been told to use. At least for this mission. It wasn't her usual style, but it worked for this.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr… Smith?" Somehow Natasha was able to pull off the perfect 'air head' type of voice. Clint didn't miss the way that Jones' eyes suddenly focused on her with a greater intensity.

Well, they wouldn't have to try too hard now in order to get close to the target now. Clint had to give it to her, she was one hell of an actor.

"The pleasure is mine, Jessica. Might I interest the two of you with some refreshments?"

 _"Guys, try and stall. There's a problem on my end."_ Clint didn't react, and neither did Natasha as they both agreed to Marcus' offer. The words had been rushed and Clint was _positive_ that he had heard the sounds of a fight from Serena' end. Was it another Smith? A Vladimir? Some other Family that had seen an opportunity and decided to take it?

In this part of the world, the possibilities were endless.

It was missions like these where Clint couldn't help but feel helpless while he waited for an update. If the mission was going to be a bust, then they had their excuses ready to be played, and even a few backup plans ready to be implemented. _Hurry up Serena_. They were getting close to the point of no return.

A discreet nudge from Natasha brought his attention back to the present. Marcus had led them over towards the refreshment table and was holding out two flutes of champagne to them. "Thank you, Marcus." Clint smiled and accepted the flutes, handing one over to Natasha who gave him an airy, but beautiful smile. "I have to apologize, sometimes my mind wanders back towards my work."

Marcus waved him off. "Do not worry about it, Mr. Jones. We all have our moments when such things are far more interesting than extravagant parties such as these." No suspicions yet, good, better than what he could have hoped for. "Might I ask what it is that you work on?"

"Oh, well," Clint gave off a soft, slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Charles does something with makeup." _Thank you, Natasha._ It might be a cover story, but who the _hell_ came up with _this_ one? _My ego will be taking a beating for this._

"Ah, I see." Marcus gave him a look of understanding. "And is that how you met your lovely wife?"

 _How good is my acting?_ "It is." Clint and Natasha both looked at each other and he wrapped an arm around her waist, lightly pulling her closer. The more in love they could make themselves look, the better their chances were of getting picked by Piotr Vladimir.

The only problem was that their backup hadn't checked back in and given them the green light. If they missed this opportunity, then it would be a _long_ time before the next one came up.

"He was the best thing to happen to me." Clint had to blink at that. That had been the honest truth from her and not just part of their cover story. Whatever made her say it didn't matter. Marcus looked pleased by her admission.

 _Dammit Serena, talk!_ Piotr Vladimir was going to target them the moment Marcus went back to him, and if the mission was a bust they'd have to know no-

 _"I'm here! All clear! Keep going!"_ Serena's unmistakable musical lilt flared in the discreet earpieces they all wore. She had been gasping and panting hard with those words and -

Clint shoved it all aside and leaned forward, taking Natasha's upper lip between his in the appearance of a loving kiss.

He'd get his answers when the mission was over.


	11. Part 3 Section 4: Budapest Arc

**Author's Note:** Before anyone asks, I have to say this now: if you recognize any _other_ Marvel character name in this chapter it was _not_ intentional. I picked two rather common names and slapped them together to make a code name only to _later_ find out that it was an _actual_ character name. What are the odds of that, right?

Either way, here is chapter 11, in which we, once again, see it from Natasha's point of view!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Eleven

It had been a _very_ close call. So close, in fact, that Natasha thought she had been able to hear Fury tear strips off all three of them.

The small emergency sounded like it had been handled as well as could be expected, but it had been the sounds that also bothered her. There had been no gunfire from Serena's end. Yes, there were sounds of a fight, but of the type that she had rarely heard: bladed weapons… sliding against _armor_.

If there was anything Natasha was certain about in regards to this mission, it was that no one had been issued _any_ sort of body armor. To add to it, the only bladed weapons _Serena_ had were her throwing knives. Natasha knew from _experience_ that throwing knives didn't make great melee weapons. They were better used as daggers if they had to be used as a melee weapon at all.

But Natasha was _certain_ , well and _truly_ certain, that she had heard a dagger or something larger. If that was the case, then _how_ -

Movement caught her eye and Natasha looked over, easily slipping back into the persona of Jessica Jones. Beside her, Clint also turned to face the people coming towards them.

The first was easily recognized as Marcus Smith. It was difficult _not_ to recognize the dark brown hair that was mostly swept to one side and the blue eyes that were slanted just enough to suggest an Asian heritage. The person slightly behind Marcus, however, was more than enough to _command_ their attention.

 _Piotr Vladimir_. The name came to her mind almost instantly. Marcus was an easy five-eight, but Piotr was able to dwarf the man. At seven feet and nine inches, Piotr was easily the tallest person in the room. His blond hair was styled artistically on his angled face. The green eyes, however, were what told Natasha he was a predator. Those green eyes were on her and, occasionally, Clint.

 _We're your targets for the evening_. At least something seemed to be going right this evening. An empty smile was on her face and she leaned slightly towards Clint as the two men approached. The predatory green eyes lit up slightly with a look that Natasha was all too familiar with. Yes, they had definitely been chosen for tonight's entertainment.

"Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones." Marcus certainly knew how to make himself sound friendly. "May I introduce you to our most gracious host? This is Mr. Vladimir. Sir, these are the guests I spoke highly of." If Natasha was a great deal naiver than she actually was, then she could understand why Vladimir had so many kills to his name.

Normally SHIELD wouldn't step in, but when several couples that had been killed had been supporters of SHIELD in one fashion or another, then it became a SHIELD problem.

Didn't help that, when Natasha had looked through the records, SHIELD was _still_ at an all-time low in terms of agents and personnels. Roughly three hundred seventy people had died at the hands of Clint's brother, Barney Barton. Piotr Vladimir, on the other hand, barely had fifty SHIELD agents dead at his hand, and that had been the numbers as of two years ago.

Funny how everything seemed to go right back to that time frame.

Natasha was drawn back to the present when Clint reached forward, taking Vladimir's offered hand. She had missed the conversation, but considering that Piotr still seemed interested in them, she hadn't missed much. Still, she shouldn't be spacing out during a mission. That was the fastest way to earn a bullet to the brain and it went against her training.

She was pleased, though, when Piotr offered to take them to a place that had a better view. Piotr was sticking to pattern still. That was good. Meant they didn't have to improvise at the last minute… as much.

Natasha felt Clint wrap an arm around her waist as Piotr guided them away from the crowd. A glance around revealed to her trained eyes the relieved expressions on the faces of husbands and the cold distance on the wives.

Even the _guests_ here knew of Piotr Vladimir's _habits_ but like most people, they stood back and did nothing. This was one of the many reasons why it was so easy for programs like the Red Room to happen.

One of Clint's fingers started to tap out a pattern on her hip and she focused on it. Stay focused. We'll lose contact. Get ready. Shifting her weight just slightly, Natasha leaned against him as Marcus opened a pair of large doors and motioned them in.

The room was no less fancy as the ballroom they had left a few moments ago. The only difference was the discreet locks that were on the balcony windows and the other pair of doors inside the room. If she hadn't been looking for it, Natasha would have missed it among the many other eye catching things in the room.

"Please, make yourselves at home. It won't take long to settle the party, then we can get down to business."

"Oh, please, don't rush for our sakes." Natasha smiled at Piotr beautifully, playing the part of delighted wife, as if this was a business deal she knew her husband needed.

In response, Piotr smiled at her, the glint was back in his eyes and Natasha _knew_ what type of thoughts were running through his head.

By dawn, however, the man would be dead and she, Clint, and Serena would be on a plane back to the States.

"As the lovely wife insists, what man can refuse?" Piotr purred out before he left the room. Marcus closed the doors behind them and Natasha believed she heard the sounds of an electronic lock engaging.

"Time to play." Clint whispered into her ear.

Yes, it was.


	12. Part 3 Section 5: Budapest Arc

**Author's note:** Thank you everyone for sticking with  Bitter Coffee this far. Things will start to get interesting from here on out. I'm still a bit uncertain on how to 'wear' the characters when I write them, even though I have the story written so far ahead of what you're currently reading. Any pointers/tips on how to do so would be much appreciated.

And as you can probably guess, a continuation of the Budapest Arc! I hope you enjoy my continued interpretation of what happened in Budapest, my dear readers!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twelve

Setting up the equipment and then covering them up had been easy. The hard part was not knowing what was happening outside, or even a status report from their sniper. The room blocked all signal and the best image that would be sent to Serena would be full of static and white noise. The best bet any of them would have at a clear shot would be if Piotr disabled his own systems.

 _Fat chance._ Clint thought to himself as he lounged on a couch. His eyes tracked Natasha as she studied herself in the mirror. The blond wig had been a good choice for this op, but there was a high chance it could be dislodged. Now that they could get Piotr alone, they didn't really need the disguises anymore, but the one thing their info was missing was _where_ Piotr did his killings.

The room could very easily be gassed and they could be taken elsewhere before Piotr decided to have his fun. If that were the case then things would be getting tricky, and they would do what they could to maintain their covers.

For Natasha, that meant making sure everything was in place. For Clint, that meant mentally preparing himself for close quarter encounters and making sure that, yes, he _did_ have his guns, just as Natasha did, and that he would have to refrain from checking.

The party was almost over and that meant Piotr would be showing up soon.

They had no idea how Piotr would 'prepare' himself for a murder, but considering that the man enjoyed rape and torture on top of that, he would probably need to drag up his toys, seeing as to how there wasn't' any hidden stashes in the room.

And yes, Clint couldn't help but check for that. It had brought up old memories.

" **Alright Clint! I stuffed it somewhere! See if you can find it this time!"**

" **You're on Barney! I'll find it faster than last time!"**

Clint shook his head and blinked a few times, forcefully bringing himself back to the present. It had been two years since anyone had seen _or_ heard from Barney Barton, and the rumor of the world was that he was dead. For the life of him, Clint just couldn't believe that.

The man had been skilled, so skilled that he could kill a SHIELD agent once every five days over the course of five _years_. There had also been random periods of time where the man had killed two, three, sometimes _four_ agents in a _week_. There had been some score or so dead agents during that time period that had _looked_ like his kills, but no one had truly written up _as_ his kills.

The best anyone could come up with was that someone wanted to be a copycat or to lay the blame on Barney. Either way, the death toll was closer to five hundred than whatever number the official reports had it as.

If it were any other person and those numbers had come from someone other than good men and women of SHIELD, Clint would have been impressed. Instead, he was sickened and disgusted.

The couch suddenly dipped next to him and it was enough to, finally, bring him out of his thoughts and old memories. "You seem distracted." This isn't like you. You need to focus on the mission.

Oh, didn't _he_ know it? "Long day and reminders of the past." My time before SHIELD. It was like he could no longer bury those memories and they were determined to make themselves known to him. He didn't _need_ to remember Barney. The man was a poison that no one seemed to be able to get rid of.

Barney's ability to survive was what made Clint doubt the validity of the rumors that said he was dead.

"Hmm, hopefully they're not _too_ distracting." It didn't take a genius to figure out what she really meant with her tone.

Clint smiled at her, forcing himself to relax. "They're not. Don't worry, Jessica, I won't ruin this for us." With the event they had been waiting for about to happen, there was a greater chance someone would be watching them form a peephole of one sort or another. Hell, Clint wouldn't put it past Piotr to have planted listening devices all over the place.

If there was one thing Clint would applaud the man on, it was how well he knew his technology. Clint would probably even go so far as to say that he could rival Tony freaking Stark. Now that he was thinking about it, chances were high that the man had rigged a lot of the room to be highly technical.

Something caught his attention and Clint paused, tilting his head to the side a bit. "No music." The party had, officially, ended now.

"So it has." Natasha smiled at him. "He'll be here soon then." And then the games could begin. It actually made his blood stir a bit in anticipation.

It wasn't long after that that they were able to hear multiple footsteps marching towards the door at a relaxed pace. Had they been anyone else, Clint was certain that the sound would have been intimidating.

They heard the door unlock seconds before they were opened by two burly guards. Armed men entered the room and stood by the walls before Piotr and Marcus walked in.

The way Piotr was looking at them actually made a knot of dread clench in Clint's stomach as he and Natasha stood up.

"So, tell me," Piotr began, his arms loosely behind his back. "Which agents have SHIELD given me this time?"

The only thing that went through his head was this: _Shit, we have a leak_.


	13. Part 3 Section 6: Budapest Arc

**Author's note:** Another day, another update! And what's this? A double update!

This chapter is a bit on the short side, but then again, most of my chapters seem to be on the short side lately. Until I actually upload them onto fanfic for some more editing and insertion of the author's note and disclaimers, I honestly have _no idea_ just how small or longer the chapters can get. Well, not in a way that actually registers in my head, that is.

Once again, if things aren't explained all that well, drop a comment in the review box along and I'll see about throwing in a few filler arcs that explain that, so long as it isn't something that is _supposed_ to be vague or explained later on in the story.

Also, if you have questions about the story so far, the only way I'll be able to get to them in time for the next time I upload a chapter will be through reviews, and _no_ , that is _not_ me angling for reviews. It's me trying to figure out what does and doesn't need to get worked on for this story the further along I get into it. After all, what's the point of writing a story for general entertainment of more than just me, if I'm the only one that understands what's going on?

On that note, college starts back up on the 29th of August, and once that happens, my upload speed _will_ be going down to just weekends. To make up for that, I make uploading _two_ chapters this time. Without further ado, here's chapter thirteen!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirteen

"Come now, Mr. Jones. Did you think I wouldn't recognize a SHIELD agent?" Piotr walked over to the minibar and poured himself a few fingers of scotch. "I must admit that going after trained agents is much more entertaining than the civilian couples." Piotr turned to face them, glass loosely held in his hand.

He gestured towards the balcony doors. "Your sniper friend wouldn't be able to see through that I'm afraid. Latest in my technology." He chuckled at the looks he got from them. "This is not the first time someone had tried to have me killed." Now would it be the last.

He couldn't help but look them over. Yes, he saw no reason why he should deviate from his original course of action. It wasn't a well known fact that he took his pleasure from both his prey. His men, all of the Smith family, knew better than to speak of such things to outside ears.

"Though, I must admit, you were, by far, the most discreet with your training and allegiance." He smiled as some of his men started to close in on the two. "Tell me, what are your real names? I'd like to know." The fight that they would put up was already exciting him. He could see it in their eyes that they were going to try and fight their way out.

Then again, they always tried. None had succeeded, and none ever would.

"And when I am done with you, I will see to your- " Piotr never got the chance to finish.

Beside him, Marcus' forehead suddenly exploded in a shower of red and specks of grey. The glass in Piotr's hand shattered and he barely had time to start howling in pain from glass embedding into his hand as well as a bloody hole appearing in his palm before two more of his men fell.

His mind was, barely, registering the multiple small holes in the balcony window. His technology imbedded in the glass itself should have prevented this very situation.

There was only one person he knew of that could have made shots like that, and was dead. Had been for two years and Piotr's information told him that the man wouldn't save anyone's life.

His body was moving without conscious thought, even as bullets started to fly from every direction. Piotr was fleeing from the one place that he had thought himself to be King.


	14. Part 3 Section 7: Budapest Arc

**Author's note:** Second day of classes, and I can already tell all of you, my dear readers, that I will be having a very sporadic update schedule. So if you haven't and you're highly interested or at least amused by this story, put it on your alerts. That's the _only_ way you're going to know when I do update from now until November _at the earliest_. Fall Break - also called Thanksgiving Break here in the United States - is in November, and even _then_ I cannot promise you a consistent Update Schedule. When _and_ if I have time that isn't dedicated to homework - and yes, I already have some. Sadistic professors! - or to projects and papers - _not_ essays. Look up 'scientific papers' for something like the _Ecology_ magazine and you'll see what I'll be having to write - then _maybe_ you'll see an update.

Once again, **I cannot guarantee an Update Schedule from here on out**.

Also, another thing i feel like I should mention to everyone:

 **The last time I updated, I posted 2 chapters**. **If you have not read chapter 12, go back and read it**.

And yes, just by looking at the stats for this story, i was able to tell who did and didn't read Chapter 12 and how many skipped straight to Chapter Thirteen.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Fourteen

Natasha would have to apologize to Serena the moment they were on the way back to Headquarters. She had thought that Serena had ratted them out to Piotr, but apparently Piotr had his own way of knowing the agents from the civilians. She would also have to thank her for giving them the best opportunity possible to cull the Vladimir-Smith Families.

Of course, Piotr had fled the room and she and Clint weren't able to follow the man.

The men in the room had been off balance from the surprise attack Serena had launched, and that had been their own saving grace. If they hadn't been shocked at the death of three of their own, Natasha was certain that it would have been her and Clint dead on the floor. Or worse.

There were, after all, worse things in the world than dying. She would know.

The last goon dropped and Natasha quickly turned in her heels, taking off down the hall and tracing Piotr's most likely path. She could hear the slap of Clint's shoes against the polished floor behind her and knew that he was fine.

 _"Piotr took a right down the first hall. Not enough windows to get a clear shot. If I had to hazard a guess, he's either going for his car or towards his private helicopter."_ For the second time in twenty-four hours, Natasha heard the cold, cool musical lilt of Serena's voice that held no mischief.

"Which way do you think he'll go?" Clint barked out from behind her. Natasha saw the hallway and took the right. Natasha could see spots of blood on the floor and walls, showing where Piotr had stumbled or had to keep himself standing.

 _"Well, the helicopter just started up, so I'd guess that way. Can't get a clear shot of the door or the pilot, and I'd rather not shoot the rotors."_ Natasha had to agree with that. An explosion was something that they could do without at the moment.

"If that's the only shot you can take, then take it." Natasha was _not_ going to let Piotr see the sun rise.

Turning a corner, Natasha had to spin around and take covered. Bullets impacted the wall beside her head and where she had been standing. Clint leaned against the wall beside her and swore softly.

Piotr had, somehow, managed to call for help. "Serena, is there a window near our location that you can shoot through?" At this angle, Piotr's men had the advantage and there was no other cover to hide behind. While Natasha was certain that random shots could thin the numbers, they only had a set amount of bullets on them.

The sound of glass breaking, wild gun fire, swears, and heavy thuds answered her. _"Just one. Better hurry, I think I saw Piotr while I was trying to scan for you."_

If she were anyone else, had been trained as anything _other_ than a Black Widow, and if it wouldn't have blown out _everyone's_ eardrums - hers included - Natasha would have screamed. "If you had a shot, you should have taken it!"

 _"And this is why I don't work with partners."_ Clint raced passed her and down the hall. Following close behind him, Natasha saw him whip the gun up and fire off two shots, one to the left and one straight in front of him.

"We don't have time to get snippy with each other. It can wait until we're filling our reports." Trust Clint to head off the argument before it even got started. _This is why I choose to work with you._

They passed a window and saw something red fly into the building across the street. Before their minds could register it, the upper two floors of the building suddenly exploded. The force of the explosion rocked the building they were in and both she and Clint had to brace themselves against a wall.

Clint's hand snapped up to the headset they wore. "Serena! Report!" They both watched as they building that had met the business end of an RPG started to crumble and burn around the impact sight.

What greeted them over the headset wasn't something Natasha would _ever_ put into a report.

 _"Motherfucking, cocksucking, son of an amoeba's fucking, ball gagged ass fucker! You son of a bitch! You want to play asshole? Fine, let's dance!"_ Natasha could only shrug at Clint.

"At least we know she's alive and engaging."

"I'll say."


	15. Part 3 Section 8: Budapest Arc

**Author's Note** : Hello my dear readers! I'm sure you've been gnawing at the bit to see what would happen in the rest of the Budapest Arc. Yes, you read that correctly, this is the last chapter of the Budapest Arc, and after this things will start to pick up speed a little bit. It's been a rather long time since I've actually gone through and _read_ these chapters, so expect a few things to be rather jarring in terms of transition. Beyond that though, I do hope you continue to enjoy  Bitter Coffee.

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Fifteen

By the time Clint and Natasha reached the roof, the pilot was dead and Piotr was a bloody mess with his back on the rooftop staring up the barrel of a gun.

Serena herself was also bloody and bruised. For the life of him, Clint didn't know if they were from the obvious fight, the explosion, or the fight that she had been in earlier. There was also a look of rage on her face and in her eyes that actually made him pause.

Piotr laughed breathlessly as he stared up at her. "So, the rumors. They're true then?" A grin froze on his face when Serena knelt over him, the muzzle pressed against the center of his forehead. For a moment, Clint thought she was going to shoot Piotr then, but part of him was curious.

What rumors? Did Piotr know something about Serena that they didn't?

"Tell me, were you the one who pulled the trigger?" Piotr's hand started to, slowly, reach towards something off to the side. Clint's eyes focused on it and registered that it was one of Serena's throwing knives.

"Yeah. Just. Like. This." Serena hissed out. Her finger twitched and there was a muffled pop. Piotr's head smashed backwards, blood and gore cushioning the harsh crack of the impact. "Rot in hell, Bastard."

For a moment, it looked as if Serena was tempted to empty the whole clip into Piotr's cooling body.

Slowly, Clint walked towards her when she stood up, her face and eyes worryingly blank. _Not a good sign_.

"Serena." He could hear Natasha shift her stance behind him, to get a better shot at the younger red head if this proved to be dangerous. "You okay?"

The younger woman took a slow, soft breath. "I'll live Clint. That's all that matters. Let's go make our reports." She eyed the helicopter. "Think anyone will mind if we take it?"

Clint had to shake his head at that as he holstered his gun. Behind him he heard the discrete shuffle that told him Natasha was, also, putting her weapon away. "Leave it. We're already going to get a dressing down from Fury." And they had their own way of getting back.

"We'll take it." Natasha started towards the helicopter. "It'll be a quicker way out of here… and we can frame the pilot while we're at it." Local authorities need a scapegoat. We'll give them one. Well… when put _that_ way…

"Just so we're clear, this was _not_ my idea… and I'm not flying it." Clint still had to cover his own ass from politics that ran around inside SHIELD.

Natasha was already inside and moving the pilot's body. Serena was picking up her equipment - rather, what remained of them - and shoving them into the helicopter. Clint's eyes could pick out the injuries she had, hidden under her clothes. If they were of the type he thought they were, then chances were that she would need help getting them seen to.

Ripping the bow tie off, Clint loosened the top few buttons of his dress shirt and felt himself suddenly able to _breathe_ again. He was in the helicopter with Serena when Natasha gave the signal that she was ready to take off.

The first few minutes of the ride was taken in silence before Clint grabbed Serena's attention and motioned towards the headset. He waited until Serena had placed one on before he wore the one closest to him and held up three fingers. Channel 3 was the private channel for this model. "You sure you're alright?" That look that had been on her face when she had executed - it hadn't been anything _other_ than an execution, no matter _how_ Clint looked at it - Piotr was still, faintly, on her face.

Serena snorted and gave him a look. "I'm fine, Clint. Honest. A bit bruised, sore, with blood splatters here and there, but fine." She gave him a slight quirk of her lips, as if she tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Alright then. What rumor was he talking about?" There was a flicker in her eyes, and by now Clint was able to recognize it for what it was.

Pain, sorrow, and grief.

Which meant it related back to Barney. _Dammit_.

"It's the same reason Fury went through the trouble of finding and personally recruiting me. Talk to him if you're so curious." Apparently she _could_ have teeth if she felt like it.

"You and I both know he won't talk when it comes to you. Your only records are whatever happens to get reported or recorded." Clint felt the familiar well of frustration inside his gut. "Why is everything about you so damn _classified_?"

Temper flared in her blue eyes, make them darken to the point Clint was forced to think of the ocean when there was a storm. "You want to why, _Barton_?" Serena spat out and Clint couldn't help but stare.

She had _never_ called him by his last name.

"It's because Barney Barton is _dead_. To add to it, it was _my_ arrow that did it." Serena bared her teeth at him in an animalistic snarl. "Right in the heart, and guess what? It also pushed him off the roof of a _four-story building_."

And with that, Clint felt he could start to believe those rumors after all. It even made sense why everything was classified. If anyone knew that she had killed Barney, then every group and organization that had been after Barney for one reason or another would have hunted her down.

In that case, SHIELD had done her a favor.


	16. Part 4 Section 1: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's Note** : Hello my dear readers! And yes you _are_ seeing things correctly, for this is an update! And all before Fall Break! Don't expect updates to happen like this very often, if only because I've got papers and due dates fast approaching. Also, I'm part of a major, non-school related research as well, so _that's_ going to be eating into what little free time I have left.

Also, in case you people haven't noticed yet, my keyboard is starting to fail me, and as such, if there's a few _weeks_ of no updates at all, feel free to assume that my laptop has, officially died after a very long life, and that I am somewhere in the process of getting a new one. As such, enjoy the chapters while you can.

Without further ado, I present to you Chapter Sixteen of Bitter Coffee.

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Sixteen

It was stupid. It was dumb. He knew it was both, and yet Percy did it anyway. What did he do, you might ask. Well...

He went into Hera's Cabin.

Now before anyone started to get ideas and the wrong impression of him, one had to understand that Percy had been curious.

It was his third summer here at came and the Hunters of Artemis had just taken up residence in Artemis' Cabin. Before _and_ after they had arrived, Percy had been doing his best to find out _who_ Serena was, and no, he wasn't talking about the one that lived in Aphrodite's Cabin.

He was talking about the daughter of Apollo that could toss around the children of Ares, turn slaying monsters into an art/dance - apparently it was a sight worth seeing - could turn anything into a deadly weapon - apparently this was found out on a quest involving monsters and a toy store. Percy _really_ wanted to hear that story - and had been best friends with Luke.

Though, if you asked the _other_ Serena, the two just _couldn't_ have been _just_ friends, and Percy would only understand if he _saw_ them together. The others that had been at camp at the same time as the Mysterious Serena - as Percy had taken to calling her, if only to keep the two straight - _and_ Luke had agreed with Serena's assessment.

And Percy had asked a few of the Hunters if they had known Mysterious Serena… and apparently a few of them did.

From what the Hunters had been willing to tell him, Mysterious Serena had left the camp after a particularly bad quest, and had refused Artemis' offer to join her Hunters. That, apparently, didn't stop her from joining them on the occasional monster hunt or bringing them a few girls that seemed interested in joining.

But that wasn't the bit of information that had Percy inside Hera's Cabin.

Zoe Nightshade had told him that Mysterious Serena always made offerings to _Hera_ , but rarely, if ever, to Apollo, and that she had once mentioned turning Hera's Cabin into a temple. This was, also, where she spent most of her time when she wasn't doing camp activities or hanging out with Luke.

Even though the dim gloom and gathered dust, Percy could see that the Cabin had once been used as temple to Hera. It made him wonder just _why_ anyone would want to pray to the one goddess that openly hated _all_ demigods with a passion.

"I do not _hate_ demigods, Percy Jackson. I merely hate what they _represent_." Percy would forever deny screaming in a high pitched voice. It was a manly scream, thank you, and yes, he _had_ known Hera was there. He just pretended that he _didn't_.

Whirling around, Percy barely refrained from uncapping Riptide as he faced the Queen of Olympus. Today, she had decided to use a statue of herself as an avatar, and she looked _very_ amused. "Represent? What do demigods represent?"

Hera sighed and closed her eyes. "Infidelity, Percy Jackson. Regardless of the status of the mortal parent, most of the gods that have demigod children _are_ married." And that was when Percy remembered that Hera was the goddess of _marriage_ and _fidelity_.

"Oh." Well… what was he _supposed_ to say to _that_? Lucky for him, Hera seemed to, for once, take pity on him.

"You want to know about Serena." By now Percy was used to odd things happening, but seeing a statue get off its pedestal to walk over towards a bench was probably in the Top 10.

Percy rubbed the back of his head. "Is it that obvious? I mean, no one _wants_ to talk about her, like she died or brought a monster into camp!" Spotting the amused smile on Hera's stone face, Percy had to gap. "She brought a monster into camp?"

"I believe she _rode_ it into camp, and then claimed it as a friend." Hera's smile was fond, something that Percy had found never meant anything good… and that was if she was _only_ smiling.

Turning her stone gaze onto him, Percy had to refrain from shuddering. "Serena is and was my favorite demigod, Percy. Look around you and tell me why I shouldn't favor her. By now the others should have told you enough for you to know her just enough to picture her. Why do you continue to ask about her?"

"Because she knew Luke. From what everyone's been saying, finding her and convincing her to help stop Luke is the best way to stop Kronos." That, and they could all do with more people to help fight the increase in monsters.

"Your first problem will be finding her then." Percy nodded. He had heard a few stories from those that had known her back when she had been part of Hermes' Cabin. Her habits didn't seem to have changed when she joined Apollo's Cabin. "She is elusive, and so far only Luke Castellan, her mortal parent, and one other have been able to find her when she doesn't wish to be found."

"Then I'll be the fourth." Percy's answer seemed to please Hera. For now, Percy would say that was a good thing, if only because it seemed she might give him a hint or a clue in finding her.

"If you are that determined to find her, then you will want to hear of the monster she befriended."

If it wouldn't have altered his odds, Percy would have cheered.

For some reason, he didn't even think of why it was Hera, not Apollo, that was telling him this.


	17. Part 4 Section 2: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's Note** : Dear readers, as I'm pretty sure some of you can guess, these notes are being made well in advance before I even post the chapters. This is more to save me time when I do go to upload it, especially since my schedule this semester is _extremely_ hectic. However, you will now be seeing the chapter through the eyes of a character I rather doubt anyone would have expected quite yet.

In the reviews, could you tell me if you would have guessed who the 'voice' of the chapter is before I introduced this character? I'm rather curious to be honest.

 **Disclaimer** : If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Seventeen

With the way things had gone, Luke really should have known that things had been going _too_ well on this quest. Once again, he had joined Serena's quest, not because he was mentioned in the prophecy, but because he had gotten the feeling that he _should_ go on it.

That seemed to be the feeling he got on _every_ question Serena got sent on. The one time he hadn't gone with her… well, Luke didn't like to think of how long it had taken the _whole_ Apollo Cabin to heal her.

"Ser, just kill it. It's a _monster_ for Hades' sake!" Luke eyed the griffon that was puffed up and _growling_ at them, it's front leg caught in a leg trap and leaking precious ichor. Apparently even mortal weapons could injure a monster badly enough if enough pressure was involved.

"Really, Lu? Look at him, he's defenseless!" Serena gave him a pleading look while he stared back in disbelief. The griffon hissed at them, spreading its wings and tried to look threatening.

It would have looked intimidating if not for the fact that one of its wings looked broken.

"Yes, Ser, _really._ It's a _monster_ , and I know you didn't forget what they like to do to demigods." This was probably their only chance to actually be able to kill it as well. Luke would admit to not knowing much about griffons, but he was willing to bet that they were nowhere near as nice as the pegasi that were, sometimes, in the stables. "This isn't a good idea."

"Then go back to camp. I'm sure Peter would thank you if you took him with you." The offhand comment made Luke scowl.

Peter Warren was another child of Apollo, and as far as the rest of camp was concerned, went by the nickname of Chicken-heart. He was decent when it came to practice at camp, but on the field with actual monsters and the real chance to actually _die_ …

"I'm not leaving you alone out here." He wasn't going to leave her with a homicidal _griffon_ either. "Just…" Luke ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair. "What are you even going to _do_ with the thing?" It took all his will power to _not_ flinch when the griffon turned enraged yellow eyes to him.

Serena turned and gave him a smile that made his heart race. She didn't _need_ a weapon when she could smile like _that_. "I'm going to nurse him back to health."

"Ser, you're _insane_. Have I told you that recently?" Did he _really_ have to explain to her why that was the _worst_ idea possible?

"You told me five minutes ago, Lu. Don't _worry_ about me. I'll be _fine_." And before Luke could say another word, Serena started to drop her weapons into a pile. Mercifully, that drew the griffon's attention back to her.

He saw those yellow eyes narrow and the griffon started to deflate back to its normal size. What worried Luke was the way it was holding its head. High and proud, yes, but… it was also the perfect angle to snap that sharp beak forward and break a bone, or worse. "Ser, I _really_ don't think this is a good idea." The griffon's posture made him uneasy, more so than the fact that Serena was now completely disarmed and was slowly walking towards it.

"It's okay. I'm going to take the trap off your leg. Afterwards I'm going to see what I can do about your wing." The musical lilt seemed a bit more obvious now and Luke was suddenly reminded that Serena's healing abilities were different from the other children of Apollo. While the others could heal or mend _physical_ injuries, Serena could only heal or mend the emotional or mental injuries.

In most cases, it simply meant she could keep someone calm and numb. But that was in humans, like demigods. Luke doubted it would work on a monster.

The soft clank of chains brought his attention back to the situation and Luke saw Serena bent over the trap, carefully looking it over and muttering to herself. The griffon's head was bowed over her shoulder, close to the back of her neck.

That image frightened him more than he would ever admit.

"Okay, I know how to work this!" Serena flashed him a grin and then grabbed the jaws of the trap before she started to try and pry them apart.

No matter how strong or fit she was, Luke knew that, at only fourteen years old, Serena wouldn't have the physical strength to fully open the bear trap. He was in the middle of opening his mouth to remind her of that fact when the griffon suddenly leapt backwards with a - triumphant? - cry. A moment later and Serena was throwing herself backwards, away from the trap, and Luke heard the loud, vicious snap of it slamming shut.

"I win!" Serena cheered, her eyes a bright, brilliant shade of blue that almost made Luke wish he could fly. A loud snort drew their attention back to the griffon, who was holding its injured leg off the ground and… Luke could have _sworn_ that was an expectant look on its face. He wasn't even sure _how_ he knew _that._

"I know, let's get your foot bound correctly so that you'll be able to walk right." Moving backwards, Serena reached her dropped messenger bag - a gift from her mortal parent, and didn't Luke just feel a _little_ bit jealous of that - and pulled out a roll of half-used bandage wraps.

"Ser, _please_ don't." Luke took a step towards her, to try and physically restrain her from this insane stunt when the griffon levelled him with a dark look and a growl.

"Lu." Luke turned his head to look at her. Serena had an exasperated, but understanding look on her face. "I'll be fine. I swear." She never said 'promise', but she was giving her word. I'll be careful. Was what she really meant and Luke had to groan.

"Fine." Be quick. His agreement earned him a smile that out shown Apollo's precious sun and twisted up his insides. He turned his head and locked gazes with the griffon, who was giving him an _amused_ look now.

Apparently even the griffon knew that, with just a smile, Luke wouldn't go against Serena if she had her heart set on doing something, regardless of how insane or borderline suicidal it seemed.

Luke fully blamed her dad - not Apollo, but her mortal parent - for _that_ … not like he would ever say it to the man's face. He had a look that could, and _did_ , send monsters running in the other direction.


	18. Part 4 Section 3: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's note:** Yes, it's been a while since you've last seen an update, but here's some good news! I'm not dead - though I have a bit of a cold right now - and there is another update here! Also, we seen some more of what's going on in Luke's head, plus some more of our favorite feathered friend: the griffon!

Unfortunately, it's a rather short chapter for this one. Not sure what happened, only that the characters didn't seem to want to talk to me when I originally wrote this chapter, and _still_ weren't talking to me when I went back to type this up and added some more bits here and there. As such, it's more along the lines of a drabble length than a normal chapter length. For that, I apologize profusely.

As it is, I now present to you, Chapter Eighteen of Bitter Coffee.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Eighteen

By now Luke had adjusted to the idea that Serena wasn't going to leave the griffon for anything short of hunting or a monster attack, and even then she would, doubtlessly, try to bring it along with them. As far as he was concerned, the only value of the griffon was entertainment. Especially whenever Peter wasn't keeping an eye on it and it snuck up on him.

After an extra two weeks away from camp, Serena had deemed the griffon fit to live its own life. Of course, that led to their current problem.

"Serena… " Peter stated nervously. Behind him, the griffon was sniffing at his hair… and following them.

"We can't bring it back to camp." Luke stated that quickly the moment he saw _that_ look on the red head's face. "Everyone _will_ shoot it." Apollo's and Ares' Cabin definitely would. The others were just a bit iffy, at least on the _method_ that they would use.

"She." Serena bluntly intoned, giving him a bland look.

"Okay, fine, we can't bring _her_ to- " Luke paused in his sentence and gesturing in order to stare at her. " _How_ do you know _that_?" _Tell me you didn't look._ _Please_.

Serena took a breath and opened her mouth, paused, and then closed her mouth, a confused look on her face. "I have no idea."

Peter whimpered at that while Luke threw his hands into the air. "We'll say it comes from being a child of Apollo and leave it at that." If only because he didn't think he could handle any other explanation. Besides, how _else_ would she have known?

Luke was suddenly shoved hard from behind and stumbled. An amused chuff told him _exactly_ who had earned his glare. The griffon pawed the ground a few times before walking past him and Peter in order to stand beside Serena.

Smiling in fond amusement, Serena reached up and stroked the grey throat feathers. "Don't worry, he's just irritated that we're not back at camp by now." The griffon gave a soft trill in response and Luke narrowed his eyes when Serena laughed.

It had been a while since he had last heard her laugh at _anything._ He almost growled at Peter when the slightly older half-blood tapped him on the shoulder, a knowing look on his face. "There's no need to be jealous, Luke."

"I'm _not_ jealous! There's _nothing_ to be jealous _over_!" He hissed back, and just to escape the amusement that was in Peter's brown eyes, Luke started walking again.

He heard the griffon make a sound he had long since associated as laughter and heard Serena ask: "Why's Lu upset?"

"You'll understand once you actually start noticing boys."

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

Closing his eyes, Luke had to pause and rub the bridge of his nose. There were days when he was grateful to her dad for teaching her the things he had, and then there were the days where he realized that Serena had gaps or even holes in certain areas. _No wonder Aphrodite's Cabin couldn't affect Ser._ "C'mon, let's just get back to camp." _And let me pretend that I don't hear voices._

Kronos was starting to get impatient with him, and Luke was trying hard to resist that dark, tempting call. So far, he intended on getting his own way through his _own_ means. Luke turned just enough so that he could see Peter, Serena, and the griffon.

As long as Serena could be at his side and capable of wielding a weapon, then Luke was certain that they could _both_ get their goals and _make_ their fathers acknowledge them. They wouldn't be _just_ another child of Hermes or Apollo.


	19. Part 4 Section 4: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's note:** Hello all! As you can see, I"m not quite dead yet. My cold is gone now, and so far life has been... well, it's been a bit of a shit storm, to put it bluntly. though the only fun bit of news I can and will be sharing because I don't see any harm in sharing it is this: I got my ears pierced... in the cartilage. Hurt like hell and was _sore_ for a few days, but now I'm on my post-piercing style! Got some rather pretty ones in my ears right now, but now I have to wait about six months before I can even think about taking the piercings out for more than a few minutes.

On the fun note: I've managed to finish chapter 54! Yes, we're at chapter 54 with Bitter Coffee right now. Currently working on writing 55. I've decided to change my original plan for what I had for Bitter Coffee. Instead of writing along the plot line of the whole Marvel Universe and THOO in _this_ story, I will be turning Bitter Coffee into a _series_.

Basically, what that means is that I'm going to let _you guys_ pick the title of the next one! Let's see how creative you guys can be, shall we?

Also, if you're reading this on Ao3 as well, it is now fully up to date, just minus a good portion of the Author's Notes in the chapters. In case some of you forgot, my friend Ivory Crawler has posted _Bitter Coffee_ on Ao3 for me under her name **with my permission**. It might be easier to read over there, or it might be easier to read over here. Quite frankly, I don't really know, but as long as you guys get to continue reading, then all is good in the world as far as I am concerned.

Hopefully, I don't go on another month long break, but real life has a habit of kicking you to the ground, and then stomping on you before you can figure out what's going on.

Without further delay, I present to you the next chapter of _Bitter Coffee_!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Nineteen

Three demigods travelling together was _bound_ to draw attention, and _never_ the good kind.

"Do you even _know_ what you're _doing_?!"

"Shut up, I got this!"

"Lu, Peter, _duck_!"

And that the story of how three demigods ended up crashing a rather nice convertible - of course, they hadn't figured out how to remove the top - into a twenty-foot-tall, ten-foot-wide tree while dodging - or attempting to dodge - spears and arrows from a small group of monsters.

Groaning, Luke managed to pull himself out of the car. His head was ringing and he knew that there was _something_ he needed to do, but at the moment, full thoughts were beyond his grasp.

The loud flutter of feathers - were they always that loud? - drew his attention to the side. The griffon had been keeping pace with them, even after the monsters had shown up. Luke could honestly say that he was _glad_ to see the feathered menace, especially when it went to the remains of the car and ripped off one of the doors before pulling Serena and Peter out.

"Ser!" He was to the car and beside Peter and the griffon before he even knew it. _Blood, so much blood._ The thick red substance coated one side of her face, and Luke faintly recalled that only he and Peter had the time to grab _something_ before the crash.

Grabbing her shoulders, Luke pulled her into him and scrambled to find a pulse. He wasn't worried about Peter. Why should he be when the older demigod was already starting to rouse? That, and the griffon was doing its best to try and stir him awake. "Ser, c'mon, don't do this to me." Luke couldn't find a pulse and while he knew he wasn't the _best_ at field first aid, Luke should have found a pulse by now, right?

He still couldn't find a pulse when Serena coughed and tried to push away from him. "Oh thank Hera." After helping Serena create that small temple in Hera's Cabin, Luke had noticed he had started to swear by her a bit more.

"You two okay?" Peter crawled towards them and the griffon snorted before pawing at the ground nervously. "I think we're going to have to run." An arrow hit the smoking remains of the car and Luke swore loudly.

"Fly." Everyone looked down at Serena who had rasped that one word out. "We won't make it if we run." She shakily pointed to the griffon, who didn't seem impressed with that idea. "But we will if we fly."

"I don't think your friend can carry all of us." Luke regretted saying that a few seconds after he said it.

An indignant shriek split from the griffon's beak and it reared up onto its back legs. The taloned front paws opened wide. One grabbed Peter's arm, the other grabbed Luke by the scruff of his sweater and the beak grabbed Serena's jacket. With a quick toss of that great feathered head, Serena was on its back and quickly scrambling to grab _something_.

The next thing Luke was aware of was Peter's high pitched mantra of 'we're going to die!' And the ground falling away from his feet rapidly.

Logic kicked in along with what _had_ to have happened based on the last few moments on the grounds. Luke joined Peter's high pitched mantra as he twisted in the griffon's grip.

Unlike Peter, the griffon didn't have a very good grip on Luke. Of the three demigods currently being carried by the griffon, only one was enjoying the impromptu flight.

"Whoa!" Serena's happy, coherent cry sounded so much like a griffon's call that the griffon let out its own piercing cry. "This is great! Can you go faster?"

Peter and Luke both picked that moment to look _up_ instead of _down_ and found the griffon giving them a predatory look, right before it _truly_ started to show them what 'powered flight' _really_ meant.

"If we survive the trip, I'm going to kill you, Luke!" Peter's words were barely understandable, but Luke didn't think he misunderstood the meaning. Especially not with the gestures that were, also, involved with the words. "You just _had_ to piss off a - "

Luke watched in horror as the griffon _dropped_ Peter. He only vaguely realized that Serena was laughing right before the griffon start to plummet towards the ground. They rapidly approached Peter's falling - and screaming. Can't forget the screaming - form before Luke couldn't see him anymore and the screaming had stopped. Looking past the griffon's neck showed him that Serena had grabbed Peter and he was now sitting behind her.

Suddenly they weren't diving anymore and Luke took the moment to greedily grasp for breath, clutching the front legs of the griffon as if his life depended on it.

As far as he was concerned, his life _did_ depend on it.

Musical laughter reached his ears followed by a musical trill. Of the three demigods, apparently only Serena found this to be hilarious and fun. Red strands were suddenly in his face along with a familiar hand. "C'mon Lu. I think Stormwing's made her point." Looking at the face that was surprisingly close to him, Luke could only nod. He wasn't sure _what_ it was, but _something_ was clogging his throat.

Serena's blue eyes were bright with a thrill Luke only ever saw when they were about to battle some monsters. For once, her tied back red hair was loose and wild, and even the blood coating her face seemed to fit.

Reaching up, Luke grasped her forearm and started to pull himself to safety. He settled behind Serena, but in front of the wings, which put him in front of Peter, who wasted no time in wrapping his arms tightly around Luke's waist. In response, Luke did the same to Serena and tried to hook his legs just under the wings. It was only when he was sure he wouldn't fall _as_ easily that he noticed that they had been gliding.

Serena turned her head to look at him and Luke's stomach dropped at the mischievous glint. "Ser, _no_. For the love of lemon pie, _no_." He almost cheered when she responded with a pout. No more stunts for today… or so Luke hoped.

Giving a slight huff, Serena turned forward and patted the griffon's neck. "Okay Storm, we need to head to camp." By now Luke was certain that Serena and the griffon - did she name it? Did she _really_ give it a name _other_ than Menace? - had some sort of telepathy going on because the griffon did a soft bank towards the right.

"You're explaining the griffon - "

"Stormwing."

"Fine, you're explaining _Stormwing_ to Chiron." Luke spoke into her ear as Stormwing started to go just a little bit lower.

"I Know, Lu." Serena turned her head just enough so that Luke could see one blue eye. "Trust me. Chiron won't send Storm away." She smiled and Luke had to sigh. He suddenly got the impression that if Chiron _did_ try, that it would be up to _him_ to make sure that the griffon always found the way back into camp.

The things he found himself doing just for her.


	20. Part 4 Section 5: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's note:** Not my proudest chapter, but I managed to get it out, didn't I? Oh well. Also

2242 views, 6 reviews, 6 favorites, and 16 followers? Pretty good if I say so myself! Personally I'm a bit more interested in seeing where all the views are coming from, and needless to say I got some rather _surprising_ results on that end!

Also, this semester is starting to wind down again, so after another week or so, I'll be back on the schedule that I first started out on. By that, I mean that I'll be updating every two or three days instead of _maybe_ once a month or so. With that said, I now give you chapter twenty of Bitter Coffee!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty

Luke didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, it was because Stormwing was flying close to the magic barrier, a deep, vicious growl rumbling in the hybridized throat. For a moment Luke almost hoped that this meant that The Menace wouldn't be joining them at camp. Yes, it had helped them escape from a horde of monsters and then brought them to camp, but it was _still_ a damn monster.

Then he felt Serena shift and saw her pat the neck feathers. "It's okay Storm. We'll just have to walk through the main entrance." She turned her head and smiled. "Hey Lu. Glad to see you're up."

Now that he wasn't in danger of falling off - or being released or thrown off - and plummeting to his death, Luke relaxed his grip on her waist and stretched his back. "Glad to see I'm still alive." A yellow eyed glare was aimed at him and Luke raised his hands. "What? Those stunts are _not_ for those not expecting them." Stormwing seemed to think on that before she went back to trying to find a monster-sized hole in the barrier to fly through.

A giggle brought his attention back to Serena. "She says that you have a point, but that she's going to have to land soon. Her wing might be healed, but it'll take a bit longer before she can pull off long distance flights any time soon."

"Oh thank Hera. I don't think my heart can take another long distance flight." Luke smiled when Serena laughed at his words. Even the griffon didn't do much more than give him a baleful look. It was only when Luke started to lean backwards, his hands resting on the griffon's back behind him, that he noticed something. "Where's Peter?"

Serena gave him a familiar mischievous look. "She needed a little break an hour ago, and we couldn't get you to wake up." Or let go. She pointed towards the blurry ground and, despite the way his stomach was flopping, Luke obeyed the silent command - more of a suggestion, really - and shifted so that he could look down. And then he had to laugh.

Peter's right arm was clutched in one talon and his left leg was in the other. The demigod's dark blond hair was full of twigs and leaves. A thin line of drool was down his chin and scattering to the wind. Luke wouldn't be surprised if Peter actually had something in his open mouth. Didn't help that the son of Apollo was _snoring_. Loudly.

Luke grinned down at Serena, who had leaned back until her back was flushed against him. Tilting her head back onto his chest, Serena grinned back at him, the mischievous light making her eyes sparkle. As if to answer his unasked question, she pulled out two markers, one in red and the other in blue, their signature prank colors. Laughing, Luke took the red marker and leaned over the side, getting as close as possible to Peter's face before he uncapped the marker and started to draw whatever happened to come to mind.

Being more flexible and comfortable on the griffon, Luke wasn't surprised to see that Serena had, somehow, swung around the opposite side. With her blue marker, she managed to turn Luke's non artistic scribbles into something beautiful and complimentary to her own blue designs.

It was one of the many reasons why Luke enjoyed going on quests with her or playing the camp games on her side: somehow she just seemed to know where to be in order to make him better or to make a defeat into a victory.

Or, on the rare occasion when they were on opposite sides, to keep him from advancing.

It didn't take long for the markers to dry out and they both capped them and shoved them into pockets before settling onto Stormwing's back.

"Try approaching from the water. I don't think there's a barrier on that side." It was noon or close to it by now and Luke was in an extremely good mood. Even when Stormwing suddenly went vertical, Luke could only laugh and wrap his arms around Serena's waist. His sounds of happiness mixed with hers as Stormwing started to twist and spin in the sky.

Occasionally, Stormwing would dive, but instead of feeling the knot of fear in his belly, Luke felt an adrenaline filled _rush_ that made him feel _alive_ and he could hear himself urging the griffon on. In response, the griffon would shriek a challenge and Serena's musical laughter would be the only thing that made _sense_.

It was only when Stormwing suddenly did a one-eighty and started to glide towards the beach that Luke even registered the fact that he and Serena were panting, that Stormwing's sides were damp with sweat - apparently griffons _could_ sweat - and that Peter was screaming and cursing at them.

They all looked down and saw Peter tightly grasping at Stormwing's arms, his face pale, and panic in his eyes as he looked up at them. "We're landing soon, Peter. Just _hold on_ until we reach land." Luke grinned at his own pun as Serena laughed breathlessly. Stormwing trilled her own amusement while Peter showed his appreciation with more swearing and cursing, and now the occasional threats and gestures.

Apparently Peter didn't appreciate Luke's attempt at being funny.

Even though they were gliding, Luke was able to see the rapidly approaching camp. Heck, he could see the mess hall and a group of people gathering along the side closest towards the water. Apparently they were visible too. Well, he shouldn't have been surprised about _that_ , considering just how _big_ Stormwing was.

With a few powerful flaps, they were flying over the beach and straight towards the mess hall. As if to make sure they were known, Stormwing shrieked loudly. Luke couldn't help but chuckle when he saw everyone start to scramble away from their tables.

A flare of the wings and Stormwing landed on her back legs in the middle of the mess hall before dropping Peter. "Oh sweet Demeter!" Luke laughed when Peter started to kiss the ground. "I am never leaving the ground again!" Stormwing shuffled awkwardly before managing to drop down to all fours next to Peter.

By now the campers, and even Chiron, were just watching. Though Luke could tell that Chiron seemed exasperated while Mr. D glared darkly at them. Luke looked at Serena when she shifted to look over at Chiron and Mr. D. Just from her postures alone, Luke knew that she was giving them a defiant look.

"We're back with help from a friend. This is Storm and she's been _more_ than helpful." Dare you to send her away. Was the only way Luke could translate that, especially with _that_ tone.

Chiron gave them an appraising look before something shifted in his expression - was that recognition and resignation? Luke would _swear_ that it was - before the centaur sighed. "Only you, Serena Barton, would be able to befriend a griffon and establish an empathy bond with it."


	21. Part 4 Section 6: Curiosity Arc 2

**Author's note:** Yes, yes, we have an itty bitty chapter here. Not sure what you guys will make of it, only that things are starting to finally get kicked off! Let me see just how many of you managed to figure out what's going on and even what your thoughts are.

Also, if you're having issues viewing it here on fanfic for whatever reason, it's also on Ao3 under my friend's name of ivorycrawler.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-one

"Whoa, wait, back up!" Percy stared at Hera in shock at her conclusion of the story. "An _empathy bond_? Like what I have with Grover?" Of all the things to expect where demigods were concerned, _that_ hadn't been what he had been expecting.

Then again, everyone seemed to be painting him a picture of a demigod that could pull off the impossible.

The statue nodded. "One and the same, Percy, and that is how you will find her."

"What? How? By the griffon? It could be anywhere!" How was he going to find a flying Greek monster that was only half-tamed at best?

"She and Stormwing are always using the bond. There _is_ a reason why no one has been attacked by griffons since that day." Before Percy could ask another question he felt and saw Hera leave the statue.

"Great." He muttered sarcastically. If there was one person that would know where to even _begin_ looking, it would be Annabeth. Turning, Percy started out the cabin/temple. "Time to talk to Wise-girl."


	22. Part 5 Section 1: Intro Arc 2

**Author's note:** Hello everyone, I have returned! I am not quite dead yet. Just finished a semester in college, and it was _not_ my best one to date. However, I have returned and I will be back to my old schedule, provided that there are people interested in rapid updates, such as before.

Let me know in a review or in a message. As it is, here is yet another chapter to _Bitter Coffee,_ and I hope you enjoy it. If there's any mistakes, let me know so that I can fix them and make your reading experience much more enjoyable.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-two

Even though he was barely making enough to buy a day's meal, Bruce couldn't say that he didn't enjoy what he did. The people in the nearby villages were only just starting to trust him, but he didn't need their trust in order to help them.

In most cases, he was just trying to make sure that the kids survived the diseases - yes, _plural_. People rarely had just one disease here - and got the chance to _live_. It might be a bit backwards, but Bruce was doing what he could to make sure that they would rememer _him_ and not the Other Guy if he lost control.

Again.

The drug lords hadn't wanted to leave him alone and, well, they did what drug lords did to 'problems'. The Other Guy hadn't liked that, and Bruce had been forced to relocate to _this_ quiet place.

He winced when he heard a child scream at _just_ the right pitch. Bruce had been around kids long enough to know that scream actually meant that they were playing. Didn't mean that he enjoyed hearing that sound though. Every time he heard a scream he always found himself doing a double take on his own person and the surrounding.

Bruce was always worried that, one day, just like before, those screams _would_ be because of him and the Other Guy.

In an ideal world, Bruce wouldn't have to worry about losing control or having people immediately running away from the Other Guy. For that matter, he wouldn't have to worry about the Other Guy smashing everything he could reach.

Sighing heavily, Bruce took a seat outside the shack he was calling his new home. It wasn't much, but it kept the weather out and gave him somewhere to keep his out dated equipment. Rubbing a hand over his face, Bruce was thinking about his inventory when he heard the Other Guy rumble in the back of his mind.

Jerking back to awareness, Bruce quickly looked around. Something had roused the Other Guy and that _never_ meant anything good. Then he heard it.

Bruce didn't know what he was expecting, but hearing someone _singing_ hadn't been anywhere _near_ his Top 10 guesses. Something about the song made the Other Guy grumble a bit before quieting into the closest thing to sleep his darker half ever got. The snapping of twigs and the crunch of leaves had him turning to face the bushes across the trail from his home. What emerged had him blinking in surprise.

A white woman with red hair and casual hiking clothes emerged from the thicket, and it was only when she did so that Bruce realized she had been _purposely_ announcing her presence. That put him on his guard. If it hadn't been for the warning from the Other Guy, Bruce didn't think he would have ever _known_ she had been nearby. That, and with just her voice she could put the Other Guy to sleep.

For the first time in a long time, Bruce felt vulnerable.


	23. Part 5 Section 2: Intro Arc 2

**Author's note:** Hello again everyone. We are about to hit the New Year and I figured, eh, why the hell not? If for no other reason than the fact that this will give me a bit more time to finish typing what the chapters I have finished, write a bit more, and keep you all sated until the next time I decide to launch the next chapter.

To make it clear though, that won't be any time soon. I, apparently, am going to be ending _and_ starting the New Year with a god damn cold of some sort. Personally, I blame Ivorycrawler for it. Some how she gave it to me through Skype, because the last time we talked, _she_ was the one that had the cold! Now here _I_ am with a damn cold and being all miserable about it.

Well, enough of the rambling. If anyone wants a timeline of events - the major events - of the story so far, I can give it in the next chapter or so. The reason I'm saying this now, is because the course of Bitter Coffee has already covered, either a year, a year and a half, or two years. I'll have to take a look at my notes again and see _exactly_ how long it's been. However, the next thing I'd like to say is this: this story has now reached 17 followers, 7 favorites, 7 reviews, and as of this note, 2711 views.

I know I'm not the best of writers, but the lack of reviews of your guys very _thoughts_ on my writing makes me wonder if I'm doing anything right or not. The views only tell me how many have clicked on the link, so for all I know, you guys are clicking on this, reading the first few sentences, and then leaving. If you guys are following and favoring this story, drop a comment and tell me _something_ so that I know what I'm doing _right_. My ownly knowledge of the Marvel characters are strictly from the movies and what I've read on the Internet, so there _will_ be a few things that are off on the characters.

In other words, this is me **all but begging** you guys to tell me more about the Avenger characters before I get too far in and write them in a way that they _aren't_. I know my chapters are short, so **tell me what other things** you do and don't like so that I can add the details into the chapters before I slap them up on fanfic to **make it more enjoyable** for you guys.

Yes, I'm writing for fun, but I'm also writing to try and _improve_. I can't do that if I don't get any feedback, guys.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-three

Of all the things to have expected, a guest that could calm the Other Guy and introduce him to native herbs that could be used from fevers to infections - and everything inbetween - was most certainly _not_ it. It was nice though, to have someone that was willing to hold a conversation with him beyond medicine, symptoms, treatment, and payment. If Bruce were lucky, he might have gotten a few sentences about the weather.

During the moments he wasn't seeing to patients, Bruce found himself watching her. Every day it seemed like she did something different. Today she was gathering up the seeds from the plants she had baked on his roof, though if he said that she would laugh and say 'dried'. If he remembered things correctly, the seeds would be given to the children to scatter while the drived leaves would get crushed and wrapped in careful amounts for him to give to the patients that were sick, but had no money or even any spare food.

And that was something else Bruce had noticed. If he just _happened_ to comment that they might not have anything to eat for a few days - had she already been here two months? - then she would come back with something to make a soup out of, fruits, or even a small game animal.

His first impression of her seemed to, still, be the right one. The only question he had left in his mind was _who_ had sent her. Whoever had sent her had been smart. With her ability to keep the Other Guy asleep, Bruce was completely dependent on his own abilities, and against someone that definitely knew how to survive in the wild, his chances weren't all that high.

"Here you go, doctor." Bruce jumped a bit, combing out of his thoughts to see the large bag of seeds being held out to him.

"Oh, thank you." Accepting the fabric bag - it looked old, worn, and handmade to him - Bruce smiled at her. She returned the smile and took a seat next to him.

"You know, you've never used my name." It was such an odd topic that Bruce turned his head and just stared at her. Without a doubt he would call her beautiful, but the same way that a _tiger_ or a _lion_ or even a _snake_ was beautiful. He didn't intend on letting her get close enough for him to see how accurate that correlation was.

"I always think you're going to leave soon, so, no reason to use it." It was with great relief that his voice held firm as he spoke. Hopefully his face was -

"I make you nervous." _This is why you never got far during those poker games back in the lab._

Those were the days he tried not to think about. What use was thinking back to that, to the days where he didn't have to hide from modern society? "Everything makes me nervous." Well, everything that could trigger the Other Guy into making an appearance.

Musical laughter reached his ears and Bruce found himself smiling and relaxing. "You don't have to be nervous around me." She grinned at him and Bruce had the feeling that he should be a bit wary. "I'm not dangerous." Bruce wasn't sure if that was a lie, her way of reassuring him she could be trusted, or if she just wasn't dangerous _right now_. "Do you still know my name?"

Bruce chuckled at that. "Yeah, I know it." He smiled at her. "Serena Bee." It was an odd name, but Bruce supposed that her parents could of had a sense of humor and given her a named that meant 'queen'.


	24. Part 5 Section 3: Intro Arc 2

**Author's note:** ...I blame this cold. It's making me feeling a little bit _too_ generous. That, and writing these notes are, apparently, a good way to ignore the pounding _throb_ in the back of my head that is too obvious to be a headache, but too soft to be a migraine. Well, the actual content of this chapter is longer than the previous ones, I can guarantee that much to you guys.

Well, make sure you **read chapter 23** alright? **This is a double update** , so this chapter won't make much sense to you if you click straight to this chapter. Of course, it'll be interesting to see just how many of you actually read the bolded words and actually go back to read the previous chapter. Hell, maybe I'll _really_ see if you guys read these things and post up the rest of this arc!

Meh, not that generous right now. Oh well, here's chapter twenty-four for you all, and **read the previous chapter's author's notes**. They're there for a reason people, and it's not to boost the word count. Those things kinda **tell you when to expect the next update**.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-four

Things were going a bit too well lately. With this sudden realization, Bruce felt himself tense, preparing for the inevitable that would always plague him.

It was during one of the calmer days - oh the irony - that Serena had taken in his agitated state and sat him down for a talking to. Needless to say, Bruce could and would say that it was odd. Wasn't the older person supposed to do this for the younger?

Bruce stared down into his cup of tea. Coffee was a luxury here, an expensive one too. Tea, on the other hand, was something cheap. Even cheaper now that someone knew how to harvest the necessary plants for it.

It was also a good way to avoid making eye contact.

He felt himself suddenly relaxing and that's when he heard the humming. "Cheat." Bruce's lips twitched as he said it, finally looking up to meet her eyes.

Serena merely shrugged at him, her eyes glittering with mirth. "Got you to look up, didn't it?" It did, even if Bruce wanted to avoid this particular topic. "Something happens when you get angry."

Bruce winced at the blunt way she put it. He wasn't going to ask how she knew _anger_ was the trigger. It was the one emotion he was _always_ careful about feeling. "You wouldn't understand." How could she, or anyone for that matter, understand?

"When you're angry, there's a sudden flare of _rage_. Then you black out." Bruce had to look at her. Yes, that was what happened, but the _way_ she had said it-

The slightly glazed look in her eyes and her melancholy tone suggested to him that he might not be the only one with extreme anger issues.

"If you're lucky, the next time you become aware is within an hour, maybe two. Most times you find out that it's been at least half a day. To make it worse, you're in an area you don't recognize." Those glazed eyes locked onto him and he felt a shudder go down his spine. Either she knew, _honestly_ knew, how it felt or she was one _good_ actor.

"But the worst part are the fragmented memories." _She knows._ That was all he could think as he watched her. Now that he was looking, he could _see_ the haunted look in her eyes. As far as Bruce knew, no actor could put _that_ genuine of a look into their eyes.

"You know who _I_ am then." Bruce didn't need to see the nod in order to know she did. Why else have this conversation? "Who sent you?" Didn't he have the right to know that much?

"Can't say, only that they've been making sure that certain people don't find you." Serena took a sip from her cooling cup. "I was supposed to monitor you from a distance, just to check up on your physical status." She gave a mirthless chuckle. "I'm more of a 'cloak-and-dagger' specialist than a spy."

Bruce knew that there was more to that than what she was saying. He could, however, guess at the other reason or reasons. There was one he figured that he would be right about.

Companionship with someone that _understood_.

"How do _you_ stay in control?" If there was someone with even a _slightly_ similar condition then they could compare notes, methods, maybe try to find a way to reverse it for _one_ of them.

When she looked at him, the look she gave him made his heart clench. "I avoid the triggers and try not to get into fights."

From the way she had always carried herself, Bruce was almost positive that she would have been right at home in a fight.

He gave her a curious look when she leaned back and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small slip of paper and slid it over the table to him. "If you need a place to hide, Bruce, to just get away from the world, call that number. It'll take me a few days to respond, though I can only check my phone once a week." Bruce couldn't help but nod. Any potential haven was better than nothing. "I suggest going to a different area in the next few days, Bruce. Something's getting the locals stirred up." The dark way she said it made him think that she knew _just_ what that _something_ was.

"You're leaving then." A nod was the only response before she got up and gathered up her things. "Will I see you again?" The company had, actually, been nice.

Serena gave him a twisted smile, as if she were trying to smile, but couldn't really bring herself to _truly_ smile. "We'll have to see what fate has in store."

And with that, she was gone.


	25. Part 6 Section 1: Filling the Gap I

**Author's note:** Welcome to the New Year everyone! Hopefully everyone had fun and didn't start it off with anything that they'll regret, that you're all in good health and whatnot. Well, it is currently 12:47 AM (0047 if you're more familiar with the 24-hour clock system) and I'm still wired and awake, so I figured, why not? Just to get back into the flow of updating semi-frequently again, I'll put up another chapter for you all.

Also, **the frequent updates will be ending soon,** because college is going to be starting back up again. Not sure on what day _exactly_ \- I don't feel like looking it up right now. I'll do that at a more reasonable hour - but soon enough that I feel the need to warn you guys _now_.

Also, at the end of this chapter is a bit of foreshadowing to what's gonna happen later. **The person that guesses it, correctly, can request a snippet or a BC moment** either as a one shot, an interlude, or, if I can stretch it out, as a filler arc.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-five

Getting back to SHIELD was almost a blessing.

Almost.

Serena still had mixed feelings about the whole agency. On one hand, it gave her something to keep herself busy and constantly occupied. On the other hand, everywhere she looked was a reminder of better times that existed only in her memories.

Closing her eyes, Serena leaned against a wall and tried to force back the tears that she felt starting to prick at her eyes. The steady, familiar thrum of Stormwing's mind brushed against her own, and Serena welcomed the intimate comfort.

There were days when Stormwing had to physically drag her out of bed because the memories had that tight of a grip on her. Then there were days like today where she wished she still roamed wild, where she always had Stormwing's unwavering presence and strength and physical support to rely on.

"This isn't the best place for a nap." The gruff voice was able to bring her back to the present situation and Serena turned her head just enough to be able to see him.

"Director Fury." How was she supposed to feel towards the man? He had brought her here, to a place that kept her constantly occupied, but also a place that constantly reminded her of what she had lost. "I already turned in my report." Handwritten, because she still couldn't figure out how to use the computer he had given her.

The glower he gave her was enough to make her smile slightly.

Serena had the tendency to write in Greek, Ancient Greek, to be more specific. As the only one to be able to read it accurate, it was often a source of headaches for the Director. _Serves him right_.

"B." As agreed, he didn't call her by her last name. Too many people here that would more than happily leak the information. Even Fury knew that, despite his faith in the agency. "There's something I want you to do."

Well, now he had her attention. Serena tilted her head to the side. "Classified?" The look he gave her made her grin. So she had sounded a _little_ too hopeful about that, but could he really blame her? Everything about _her_ was classified, and most of her missions followed that pattern as well.

"Come with me." _I'll explain as we walk._ Fury both said and implied as he started down the hall passed her. Giving an intrigued hum, Serena pushed away from the wall and followed after him. "We've recently recovered someone. Unfortunately, he'll be in for a shock when he wakes up."

As a child of Apollo, all his children could heal, shoot better than anyone else, and see _very_ small glimpses of the future. Frowning, Serena felt that part of her abilities kick up. Red and blue, a shield with a white star, blond hair blue eyes -

Serena made a soft sound and shook her head a bit. "I see." _More than you could possibly know_ , she thought as he glanced at her over his shoulder.

"You're uniquely specialized for this if the first method doesn't work." Made sense. At least to her it did. "I'm trusting you not to have one of your episodes if you have to step in."

Grief did many things to a person, and Serena _knew_ she was a loose cannon on the _best_ of days. It was the main reason why she was always on sole-lo missions. The secondary reason was the problem that followed her around simply because of _what_ she was.

"You and I both know it doesn't work like that."

"No, but I can use it to stress the importance of this."

Serena would concede that much to him. "When do you want me to sit in on it?" She only got disjointed images from that one glance, and as such, Serena had no idea _when_ the man would be back on the field. It were times like these she wished she had her siblings' certainty with that particular talent.

Then again, she was the fighter among them. Seemed like a fair enough trade off in the end.

"Starting today." Serena blinked at the man's back.

"I thought _I_ was supposed to be the surprising one." Her prank war with Clint had been proof enough of that, hadn't it? THen again, they _both_ remembered how their first meeting went.

Nothing said 'hello, pleased to meet you. Do you have a career for me?' better than trying to skewer the other person with a sword.

Fury gave her a baleful look before stepping into the elevator. A simple hand motion had Serena stepping into the death machine beside him. "You're more abrasive than surprising. Considering the person you'll be monitoring, your skills might be needed if he… doesn't adjust well."

"Ah. I see." Serena wouldn't be there _just_ to talk him down, but to _put_ him down if he tried to bolt. "Hope you know that I know nothing about him."

"That's the point." What? Her confusion must have shown because he sighed and turned to look at her. "You don't know him thanks to your upbringing, but _because_ of that you can help him adjust back into society. You might even be able to impress him with your historic knowledge."

Serena chuckled at that. "So I like history. Have to like doing _something_ that doesn't involve what I do best." And that was killing people. The look Fury gave her seemed like it was between understanding and pity.

Part of her understood why he was pitying her. The other part of her wanted to lash out at him, to remind him that he had personally sought her out _and_ recruited her _because_ of that upbringing and skills. She had half a mind to -

A wave of urgent calm passed over her and Serena sighed, basking in the familiarity of Stormwing's presence. These moments, her little 'episodes', were becoming more and more frequent. The longer she stayed away from her beloved friend, the more intense they became.

In short, Serena was becoming very familiar with self-fear and self-disgust. It was all fine and good in a fight, but something like this? A casual setting? If this kept up she just might -

Serena was drawn back to the real world when she felt someone shake her and heard her name being called. Opening her eyes, Serena blinked in confusion up at Fury. She could feel the cold floor at her back and immediately knew what had happened.

"I'm fine." Serena spoke as she tried to shove the Director away so that she could get back to her feet. "Don't." She pointed at him when she managed to get into a sitting position. He had that look on his face that she had long since gotten used to. "It was _not_ an episode, Fury. It was just Storm."

If the first meeting between Serena and Fury had been considered a death match, then the first meeting between Fury and Stormwing had been the equivalent of a war zone. Serena didn't know the _whole_ story, but she got the impression - from both of them - that Fury _might_ have lost his eye to a griffon.

Hard to say for sure when neither were talking, but it _did_ beg the question of how Fury had survived such an encounter, especially if he had tangled with a griffon. How had he survived the poison?

Fury's eye darkened at the mention of her long time friend and he got to his feet. "That bird better not find it's way into my building." Again. Serena could only grin before she got to her feet, just as they reached the ground floor. "We're not sure when he'll wake up, but we have operatives on standby for when he does." He might have been saying 'when', but Serena could hear the very clear 'if' in his voice. Then again, it would be a _very_ big if for anyone. Being frozen for about seventy years would make even the biggest supporters have their doubts.

"Let's hope he does." Serena left the elevator and didn't look at Fury as he stepped out and continued to lead the way. Serena _knew_ he had given her a look at her comment.

And she also knew _why_.

Her foresight might be one of the weakest of all of Apollo's children, but she _still_ had foresight. The glimpse she had gotten had shown a battle with something even _she_ wasn't familiar with.

For a demigod, that was _far more_ nerve wrecking than pissing off - accidentally of course - a god.


	26. Part 6 Section 2: Filling the Gap I

**Author's note:**

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-six

Five days. Five _boring_ days of watching the man sleep and Serena was ready to start playing darts in the man's false room when the 'nurse' hastily donned her disguise, grabbed her props, and went towards the room.

Grinning, Serena slid up to the door and shamelessly started to eavesdrop. It was like being a kid against and trying to figure out if her -

Violently, Serena shook her head and stomped down the well of grief and regret and self-hate. She reached out towards Stormwing through their bond, desperate to confirm that she still had _someone_ from those happier times.

The answering, soothing confirmation came in the form of understanding-reassurance-fondness-and-affection-and-'pleasedon'tcry'. It was better than a bug, but _nothing_ would ever replace a physical reassurance. Knowing in her very _mind_ and with a sliver of her _soul_ that Stormwing was very much alive was the next best thing. Somedays, no _most_ days, it was _better_ than the physical reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, Serena focused on the task at hand. The voices were slightly muffled, and the recording was _still_ playing, but…

 _Play time!_ She cheered, sending that to Storm before she got up and shoved the door open.

They both whirled to face her and Serena gave Agent Nurse - what _was_ her name? - a bored look. "You know, you _suck_ at being a nurse." Serena jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "Shoo, tell your puppy you need more lessons while _I_ do your job." Agent Nurse - that was probably better than her actual name - glared darkly at her and stormed out of the room.

"Who are you?" Serena smiled at the confused, wary, and definitely suspicious man on the bed.

"I'll get to that in a minute." Walking over to the doctor's small wheely-chair, Serena plopped down on it. "I'm Serena, Serena B, and yes, that _is_ my name." Because she could, Serena spun herself on the chair. "Any other questions? I swear I won't lie, if only because it'd be counterproductive." She was starting to think Fury appointed her as 'back up plan' because of her habit of being blunt.

"Where am I? How long have I…?" He gestured to the bed and even if he hadn't, serena would have still _known_ what he was asking.

"Good ol' America, specifically New York. Don't ask for anything specific, _I_ still get confused and lost." And she did. It happened when you grew up not really knowing or understanding city or county sizes and boundaries. "As for the second question, it'll be hard to believe." Serena looked at him. "But I need to know what the _last_ thing you remember is. That'll tell me where I have to start for any other question you'll have."

He didn't look _as_ wary now, but there was still caution on his face. "Crashing into the ocean after stopping Red Skull."

Serena rubbed her face. "Well then… okay, do you want blunt or sugar coated?"

"Blunt." Now he was nervous.

"Seventy years. Seven-zero years." Serena gestured towards the radio. "That was supposed to put you at ease, and the room was designed to be familiar, but since you saw through it, the idea of easing this bit of news onto you _kinda_ fell apart." Just a little bit.

"That can't be true." Serena could hear the naked disbelief and see the denial in his eyes. Both, also, held slight shock.

"If you're up for it, I can take you outside." Serena could understand what he was feeling. After all, hadn't she felt the same when she had been taken to Camp Half-Blood for the first time?

Everything seemed to be replaced with determination and Serena had to smile. If he kept that determination level, he would be able to see this through. "Can you stand? Or would you rather I bring a wheelchair?"

Personally, Serena was hoping he opted to stand. Not to be mean, but because she needed him to keep that spirit of his, to not bow to what looked like a friendly face. That, and it would be best if he saw his new world standing on his own two feet.

The man didn't disappoint. In fact, it pleased her more than she could say when there was just the slightest tint of defiance in both his eyes and the set of his mouth. Yes, he would find a way to settle in this new world.

"I'll stand." And he pushed himself to his feet. To his credit, he barely stumbled.

"This way. You'll have to do without shoes this time. We weren't expecting you to want to move around." Personally, if _she_ had been frozen for seventy years, moving would be the _only_ thing she'd want to do.

Serena led him out of the room, forcing herself to keep to a slow walk. Modern technology did wonders, but she wasn't going to push the man's luck. As it was, she walked close enough to him to force him to stay near the wall, just in case he stumbled.

The agents they passed stared at him and, respectfully, stepped away so that they could both pass. A few even stopped and saluted him. Serena turned her head to look at him. He was a bit relaxed now, his eyes more alert, and he was nodding his acknowledgement to the former soldiers saluting him.

"You're a hero." Serena could see the well hidden confusion. "After you stopped the Red Skull, the war ended fairly quickly. Without their leader and the main source of power for their weapons, Hydra had to go under. Hitler lost half his arm and committed suicide within a year." Serena was grossly summing things up, but that was the basic gist of events after he disappeared.

She could see Fury now and ignored him. Instead, Serena stopped in front of one of the few, non-glass doors. "Last chance." The stubborn, but determined, jut to his chin was enough of an answer.

Opening the doors, Serena took a step to the side and watched the man as he stepped into his new reality.


	27. Part 6 Section 3: Filling the Gap I

**Author's note:** Yeah, it's been a while since I last updated, but things have gotten a bit hectic on my end. Classes have started back up again, I got a second job, attempting to work on Chapter 57, and also taking some online training for _another_ job that'll be happening some time during the summers.

So, honestly? Expect very slow updates, maybe once a month like it was in the previous semester.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-seven

"That's a TV, not much has changed about them since your time. Just more buttons, introduction of colors, increased availability, and no antennas." Between introducing him to the technology of the twenty-first century and going on missions, Serena made sure to tell him everything that had happened over the past seventy years in as much detail as possible.

She even made him a giant posterboard with a timeline of major events.

For now, he was living in her apartment. The reasons why he hadn't moved out yet, after two months?

One, Fury wanted someone to be near him at all times, just in case of one thing or another. Serena had tuned him out after Reason Number Twenty-eight.

Two, Steve was still a bit overwhelmed and often locked himself in the guest bedroom anyway. Battles and war were one thing, but the shock of losing _everything_ and being in the _future_ was a _completely_ different kettle of fish.

Three, Serena was, more often than not, not even _in_ the apartment for months at a time. It was mostly free of technology and was perfect to house a man out of his time.

In other words: Fury got what wanted, Steve was able to feel somewhat at home, and Serena got a permanent house sitter. Everybody won.

Looking up from her report, Serena watched Steve as he looked over the remote that went with the TV. Just because she had one didn't mean that she used it very often.

Same story with the computer, microwave, heater, and especially the phone. She only had the 'house phone' established for Steve after he asked about take out. While they both took turns making meals, there were days when take out just seemed to taste better.

"Do you want me to show you how to use it?" Steve gave her such a sheepish and apologetic look that Serena had to smile and chuckle.

"I'm sorry. You're busy and I'm just -"

"It's fine Steve. You're still trying to adjust to the world. Have you thought about Fury's offer?" Joining SHIELD would give him back a sense of _being_. It would also help him understand the world better.

"I've… thought about it." Steve placed the remote down and walked over towards the table Serena was using as a desk and took a seat across from her. "There has to be a catch though."

"Crappy work hours." Serena grinned when Steve chuckled at her small joke. Putting down her pen, Serena rolled her wrist and leaned back in her chair. "But beyond that, endless reports. I recommend the computer if you're going to do that. Faster to type than it is to write. I just never got the hang of it."

"Why not? Doesn't everyone know how to use one?" Steve was, clearly, still confused about her disinterest towards technology. It was the one topic Serena did her best to avoid talking about.

"I never learned." The question still burned in his eyes and Serena sighed heavily. "Hard to learn acceptable world skills when you've lived on the run most your life because your only parent was a criminal." Grief and sorrow ripped through her hard enough to make her close her eyes.

"Is that why…?" She could hear the awkwardness in his voice, could even hear his sudden uncertainty.

"He died and Fury found me a few weeks later. It was either join SHIELD or be stuck grieving for who knows how long." Serena looked at him. "Despite my dad's crimes, he was still my dad. SHIELD knows him as a heartless killer that might have been a touch insane, but _I_ knew him as the man that would _always_ make sure I was warm and fed, taught me to read and write, and even sang me to sleep. I have his skills, not because he forced me to learn, but because he caught me trying to teach myself."

"But wasn't he still a killer?"

"Aren't you?"

"That was _war_ , Serena. I didn't -"

"And what _defines_ war, Steve? What makes a soldier _different_ from a mercenary? Morals? Money? The orders? War is ugly and brutal, and I don't _need_ to fight in one to know _that_ much. What I _do_ know is that people _can_ have different opinions and impressions of the _same damn thing_."

There was a tense few moments as they stared at each other. Serena could tell that he was trying to make sense of her words, of how it fit with his own beliefs, and of her description of her dad just as she knew he was able to see her pain, grief, and desperate attempt to stay calm. Her dad was the one, known, topic that could set her off like this.

"Alright." Steve leaned back in his chair and looked away from her. "But SHIELD… do they keep you on a leash?"

"I'm Fury's recruit. That means I report only to him. That's not the case with everyone, but you'll most likely be put on probation with a more senior agent overseeing any and all assignments you go on. From there, training and seeing what you're better at. That part will determine mission… but to answer your question of a leash, my unique background makes that a 'no'. For you though, they'll probably assign someone to keep an eye on you." Serena shrugged and picked up her pen.

"Why? Is it a case by case thing?" Serena looked at him, could see the guarded look in his eyes.

"Because word _will_ get out about you being alive and sympathizers to your old enemies _will_ start loading bullets into guns and strapping on knives before they start looking for you." Serena watched him blandly. "Right now you're safe, but you'll have to make a choice soon. The military isn't what it used to be, and you'll find more daggers in your back with _that_ route."

Sometimes swearing to be blunt was a bad thing, but Serena _would_ keep her word... though one of these days it just might kill her.


	28. Part 6 Section 4: Filling the Gap I

**Author's note:** A little filler chapter that I thought might be needed, if only to explain a few small details. Like what's happening on the _Percy Jackson_ side of Serena's life. As per usual, these Notes are being typed up ahead of time, and it's rather...

I'm not all that sure what to say, but we're at a little over 3K in terms of views. In terms of reviews, favors, and follows... still kinda of lacking. There's no way to actually look up the story based on those filters, so if you don't have this story in any of those categories, you're kinda stuck with the filter "update date" in order to find this story.

That is, honestly, the main reason why I want you guys to review this story. Even if your review is just an emoji, it'll help make this story easier to find for those that are new to this crossover section and looking for something interesting/good to read.

On that note, a little bit of information that I'd like to share. When I first started Bitter Coffee, I didn't even _look_ at how many stories were written for this category. It wasn't until I was at... about chapter 10 or so that I looked and found that it had 41 stories. Now though? Last time I checked this particular category, it was back when chapter... 20, I think, was uploaded. At that time there was _over 400 stories!_ Talk about a massive increase!

Knowing that, I hope you guys are enjoying the story, I'd still like to know what I'm doing right or wrong in regards to the Marvel characters. Don't worry about the PJO characters, any OOCness is being explained in later chapters, but even then keep in mind that the Crossover universe, _any_ Crossover universe, will involve a _massive_ amount of characters to not only keep track of, but also to keep In Character. This gets even worse the _more_ crossovers you stick into one universe.

For now, I'll content myself with just sticking to two universes, but eventually I might do a multi-crossover story. The way I have things planned for this story, I might do just that, if only as a side series meant for, mostly, "just laughs" and to see if I can make it blend together.

 **Let me know which category you'd like to see Serena have some misadventures in!** ^.^

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-eight

Serena had never looked forward to actually being on active duty until now. Steve was still, understandably, iffy in regards to SHIELD, but she had managed to get him signed up at a local gym.

Under a false name of course. Took a while to get _that_ by him. Damn man was pickier than a vegetarian at an all you can eat buffet.

Running a hand through her hair, Serena pulled it back into a messy ponytail as she walked down the streets towards the park. Stormwing was here and Serena desperately needed to see her friend. Perhaps if she were lucky the day would remain dark and they could go for a quick fly.

Of course, what greeted her at the park crashed those hopes. Lord Hermes." Even disguised, she would always recognize the god for who and what he was.

"Serena." The disguised god greeted her. For once he wasn't in his uniform, nor did he have the customary electronic signature pad. Today he had a casual runner's outfit and his infamous caduceus was actually in hand. The sight of the silver staff with it's two snakes made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"I don't do quests anymore, Lord Hermes. I'm sure the other _obedient_ half-bloods would _jump_ at the chance for one if _you're_ handing it out." It wasn't the best idea for anyone to poke at a god like that, but…

Serena had _seen_ Luke before _and_ after finishing that one, particular quest. Judging from the wince the god-of-too-many-things just had, he knew that _she_ knew.

"You've spoken to Luke." Serena crossed her arms and stared at him.

"Would it matter if I did?" Half the reason she and Luke got along half as well as they did was because of their mostly nonexistent relationship with their godly parent. "As far as I'm concerned, whatever gets said between me and him isn't your concern. Or Apollo's." Just so they were clear on _that_.

"You're the only one he'll listen to." Please speak on my behalf. Serena could hear the silent plea in his voice. Some of it reflected in his eyes.

"What of that girl he showed up with? Athena's daughter if I remember right." It was never easy to convince Serena to do something she had no wish doing.

"He won't _listen_ to her. Serena, you're his last _hope_. If you _saw_ the path he was going down -"

"Do you think I _haven't_ , Hermes? Do you think I would be like you or Apollo and just sit back do _nothing_?"

A rumbling growl was stuck in her throat as she glared at the god. "Let's make one thing clear, Hermes. Because of you gods I've lost everything that I held dear. The only thing left is Stormwing, and that's only because I got out from under your collective thumbs when I _could_. Luke doesn't even _that_."

"That's _why_ I'm _here_. I love my son, but I -"

"More excuses? If you loved him as much as you claimed, why is it you never helped him? With all due respect Lord Hermes, _you_ put him down this path and not even _I_ can stop him now."

And that hurt _her_ more than she could, or would, ever say. Every time they met up and spoke or Iris messaged each other, Serena could see it. Could see the way she was losing her friend to Kronos' influence.

"Then you're not trying hard enough!" In that one moment Serena was reminded that she had been lashing out at a _god_. He seemed to become taller and his caduceus writhe, the shape seemed to twist and the snakes hissed loudly enough for her to hear them. "If _you_ care for you you'd try!"

"I love him!" Serena snarled back at him. It took a few seconds and his stunned expression for her to realize _what_ she had blurted out. Flushing darkly, Serena turned away from him.

"You… love him?" It was probably supposed to have been a statement, but Serena heard it as a question. "And yet… ?" A glance from the corner of her eye showed her that Hermes was back to his mortal disguise and looked very confused. "You're not shy or even quiet, and yet… we all thought you both were just… " He gestured with his free hand.

"We're friends, yes. I'd even go so far as to say _best_ friends, Lord Hermes." Serena walked over to one of the few decorative ponds in this particular park and looked down at her reflection. "But he doesn't feel the same."

"Have you asked? I mean, you can't _know_ that for _sure_ , right?" Serena heard him walk up behind her and saw his reflection in the water beside her own.

"I don't think there's much room for _misunderstanding_ when he called me his 'little sister' the last time we spoke." And that _still_ stung.

"And you're _in_ love with him." Serena could only nod her confirmation. "Well… that… " He scratched the back of his head. The two snakes untwined from the staff a bit and seemed to speak to Hermes a bit. Serena could only guess at the conversation.

"Sucks, for lack of better words." And it did. Serena had been barely thirteen when she realized it wasn't friendship or a familial bond she felt towards Luke. That had been her main motivation behind introducing him to her dad that year on a quest that the Oracle had given to Peter. As usual, Peter had gotten her and Luke to be his fellow questers for that.

"Hard to believe I'm eighteen now."

"Nineteen."

Frowning, Serena turned to look at the god of thieves, travel, communication, and a few other things. "No offense, but I think I know how old I am."

Hermes smiled and chuckled at her. "There's a reason I came to you instead of one of my quick drop-offs or even had a proxy do this." _Now_ she was curious. He snapped his fingers and a small, but long, package appeared in his hand.

Frowning, Serena tilted her head to the side, staring at the box. Now that she was looking at it, the box looked like it might house one of those Fathead posters she had seen on those demo TVs. "Dare I ask?"

Instead of answering, Hermes merely gestured for her to take the box. Frowning suspiciously at the trickster god - who wouldn't, given that they had been lashing out at each other not even ten minutes ago? - Serena accepted the box. With a yelp, she ended up crashing to the ground. "What in the Nine?" The weight of it had surprised her. The snakes laughed at her. No translation was necessary and even Hermes looked down at her in amusement.

"Open it, and don't forget to read the card." Before she could say or ask anything, Hermes disappeared.

Sighing, Serena turned her head to the side and spotted Stormwing coming out of a wooded area. "Glad to see you arrived. Were you eating or something?" Instead of an answer, the dark grey griffon simply walked over to her, laying down behind her close enough that Serena could feel her body heat. "Who would give me anything? Everyone that would is dead."

Curiosity burned in her and Serena opened the box and shoved aside some of the wrapping. Her breath caught when she spotted the contents.

Two long, deceptively thin blades were in the box. They were, clearly, Celestial Bronze, but the handles looked like they were encased in steel, and then wrapped in such a rich leather that Serena could _smell_ it. What truly caught her attention were the glyphs that glittered at her in the sunlight.

Her fingers traced over them and she found herself muttering their names. "Uruz, Thurisaz, Gebo, Wunjo, Hagalaz, Eihwaz, Algiz, Teiwaz, Ehwaz." Tears were gathering in her eyes as she looked for the card Hermes had told her about. She already had an idea who had sent it.

It didn't take her long to find it. Pulling it out, Serena read it once, twice... and felt the tears fall as she read it a fourth time.

 _Sorry I missed your 18th, but here's two to make up for it. You always did prefer two :) I know you'll understand the message, and hopefully they won't break like most of your other ones_

 _Love,_

 _Lu_


	29. Part 6 Section 5: Filling the Gap I

**Author's note:** A few of you might have noticed that it's been almost a month since I last updated. Well, I've given you guys Chapter 28 before the month was over. I consider that to be an accomplishment to be honest.

 **Next update** might be in March, but I make no promises.

Mostly a filler chapter with this one, but to be honest, not all that sure if I'm happy with how Steve's character got developed in the movies. **So fully expect** there to be a few divergences from the canon verse of **both** worlds that I'm playing around in.

I'm sure you will all start to notice when and where the AU will start to happen.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Twenty-nine

Even a week after her chat with Hermes and getting the belated/few days early birthday gift, Serena knew that Steve knew that something was off and that he was giving her some space.

In one breath she appreciated it. She was still trying to get used to thoughtful gestures. In the other breath, however, avoiding her while he was still trying to understand the monetary system _wasn't_ the best idea.

That was why, when Steve walked into the apartment to suddenly find it looked more like an armory of the medieval variety, he was, understandably, confused and wary in equal parts.

"Serena?" Looking up from her spot on the floor, Serena paused in her cleaning and sharpening to stare at him. "Where did all these come from?"

"The magical place that I've taken to calling a 'sub-dimension'." Serena waited until he gave her a look she couldn't quite describe past 'incredulous'. "Or, if you prefer, my room." She watched him look at her weapons, and then at the door to her room, before back at her. "Yes, I know. Hard to believe it all fits."

"Why are they all out here?" If he had needed any sort of reminding that she was a trained, professional killer, this would have done it. Steve hadn't seen this many weapons gathered in one place since the war. "You have enough for a small army." There were more weapons here than he could count, but most of them seemed to be of the small, bladed sort that looked perfect for throwing.

"They're here because I needed to sort through them, sharpen them, and see if any need to get repaired." Serena nodded her head towards a particular pile. Steve looked over at them and had to blink.

"Did you dip them in acid?"

"... Technically I coated them in a thin layer of a relatively weak acid."

Blue eyes met blue eyes, one pair incredulous and the other almost blank.

"What?" Steve breathed out. " _Why_?"

Serena shrugged and went back to polishing the dagger in her hands. "Sometimes they don't stay down. Has the added benefit of making sure that if they get recovered by the enemy, that they won't be of much use."

"You're cruel." But Steve could understand. Serena knew he would. Not all battles were out in the open and most times you didn't have enough _time_ to kill enemy soldiers, do you had to settle for injuring them in a way that would easte enemy resources.

As it was, his tone hadn't been horrified or accusing. Merely grim.

Serena looked at him. "The world is cruel." She flipped the dagger in her hands a few times before she casually threw it across the room. The blade hit the center of the target on the wall, and was nestled between two others.

"Wow." Serena looked over at Steve who was staring at her score. "Nice aim." There was a slight look in his eyes that reminded her of... something. The look was gone and Steve was looking back at her. "Can you do that, consistently, with all these?"

Serena chuckled and nodded. "Even an unweighted weapon." She looked at the wall. "I've never missed." And there was only one time in her life where she wished she had. "Up for a spar?"

"No weapons." It seemed to be the only thing Steve was concerned about, so Serena nodded her consent before she took a handful of daggers and placed them in their proper holsters. "I said -"

"Not for you." Serena interrupted. "Precaution. Just because my dad made sure no one found out about me doesn't mean he was completely successful." It was the only safe answer she could give him.

"Oh." Checking herself over, Serena eyed her scattered weapons while Steve shifted slightly uncomfortably by the door. "Do you know a place then?"

"Yep. It's also on SHIELD's radar, just so you know, but it's a nice, defendable place." Most of the places she picked were like that. She knew Steve had picked up on that particular habit of her hers. Serena looked at him. "If you need to do anything before we leave… "

"I'll pack some water." Serena watched him head over to the kitchen area, dropping his bag by the counter. While he packed whatever he thought they would need, Serena gathered up her weapons and started the first of many trips of putting them away.

It was only when she was in her almost bare room and out of sight of the kitchen that she used a trick she had learned from a god. The weapons in her arms disappeared, but only from _this_ particular dimension.

She hadn't been joking about a sub-dimension.


	30. Part 7 Section 1: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** And here we see the start of a new Arc! I'm sure you'll all be glad to know that this is where the action kicks up. Hopefully the updates will be semi-regular, but I can't make any promises on that. Just recently found out that I'll be graduating soon - within the next year if I pass all my classes - and I'm doing various certification training, plus online training for possible summer job opportunities for the rest of my life, so updates won't be happening very often from here on out.

On another note, i **f you see any grammatical errors or misspelling, by all means let me know so that I can make it an easier read for you guys.**

Also, some comments on the reviews:

Sayonara Yasashii Akumu: Wow, that's a long review. I'm glad you like Serena. To be honest, there are days when I want to shake her and ask what she thinks she's doing by not playing by the rules and ideas I had in mind. I'm not trying to make everyone like her, and I think I manage to make it clear that Natasha at least doesn't really like her. The others have either had limited amounts of interaction with her and don't have a full opinion on her yet, or they only saw likeable aspects. But yes, it was Silena that I was trying to refer to, but I couldn't find her name in my _Percy Jackson_ books when I was flipping through them! So thanks for telling me her name, cause my friend on AO3 couldn't remember her name either, only that we both knew it started with an 'S'.

LoveLeesa: lol, well I'm glad to hear that you found this story from AO3. I told Ivory how you found me and she was amused and glad that her notes managed to direct you to me.

ShadowQueen198: Well, I hope the earlier chapters answered your question about Budapest, even if the entirety of it didn't live up to what I had hoped to create. As for cliffhangers... wasn't aware I made any?

Anyway, **thank you everyone** for taking the time to review!

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty

"Of all the things to make you sick." Serena would have punched Fury, but she was just a _little_ bit busy trying to keep her stomach from rebelling. Didn't help that Fury was, very clearly, amused.

"Fuck off, you cycloptic reject." Serena groaned out. The pale blue bucket near her was looking more and more welcoming the longer they stayed at sea… or was it the ocean?

"The great Serena, downed by sea sickness. I'll put a note in your file." Oh he was _far_ too amused about her suffering.

"Why'd you call me to this damned floating death trap?" And could she leave directly after he said whatever he needed to say? It was worth hoping for.

Serena felt alarm bells go off in her head when Fury suddenly sobered to the point of grimness. "What happened?" Her stomach rolled and this time she wasn't sure if it was because of her sea sickness or if it was nerves from the bad new he had yet to tell her.

"Barton's been compromised." Her world spun and Serena was glad she was already sitting. "The Cube opened a portal and someone calling himself Loki took the Cube, killed eighty-eight men, and somehow convinced Barton and a few scientists to follow him."

"What? Clint wouldn't walk away from SHIELD." If there was one thing she had learned about Clint over the past three, almost four years since their first meeting, it was that Clint loved SHIELD and the things it stood for. Then another bit of information clicked. "Loki? The Norse God of Chaos? _That_ Loki?"

"Unless there's some _other_ guy running around in black and green claiming he's from Asgard." Something must have flickered over her face because he was slowly shaking his head. "No. Don't you _dare_ say it."

"I'm going to kill him." Clearly not what he was expecting her to say, but it seemed to make him relax a bit. "I'm going to dip him in acid, and if he's still alive, I'm going to blood eagle him."

Fury gave her a confused, but curious, look. "You're going to do _what_?"

Serena looked at him. "You _don't_ want to know. Trust me." It was one thing to talk about it, or even to _mention_ it. Entirely different to see it performed. To be honest, Serena wasn't even sure if she had the strength _or_ the stomach to go through with it. " _Don't_ ask." Gripping the table with SHIELD's logo imprinted onto it, Serena debated whether or not it would be a good idea to stand. "Who have you called in to look for Clint and Loki?" It was best to stay on topic and deal with the crisis on hand.

"Right now, you and Widow. She's getting someone that will be able to track the unique signature of the Cube, and I'm off to go fetch Captain America." It sounded like a good team so far. "And Agent Coulson is seeing if he can convince Stark to join."

"We're fucked." This was going to crash and burn so badly they might as well let Loki wreck havoc on Earth.

Fury gave her an unimpressed look. "Your vote of confidence is _greatly_ appreciated." Was that actual sarcasm? From Fury? "Everyone will be arriving in a few hours."

"What do you want me to do?" Serena need to do _something,_ anything would work at this point.

"I need you to stay calm and stay on this ship until _after_ I send Rogers and Romanoff to get Loki." Fury held up a hand to silence her almost immediate argument. "You're the trump card against Loki right now. The longer he goes without realizing you're here, the more off balance he'll be." For someone that only just _now_ found out she knew _another_ god, he was rather good at modifying plans. "Worse case scenario, you'll have to fight him."  Can I trust you not to hesitate?

Serena nodded. Her stomach rolled and she was barely holding her new best friend before her stomach violently shoved her last meal up her throat.


	31. Part 7 Section 2: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** So before I say anything, WE ARE NOW AT TEN REVIEWS! And yes, I consider that to be an achievement. Thirty-one chapters in and only ten reviews. Considering how many favorites and followers I have for this, I think I'll just have to sigh and accept it as one of those truths of life.

Also, the original form of this chapter was one that I utterly hated. So instead of deleting it or shredding what I had originally written, I figured that I'd just add to it and see if that would fix the utter shite that was this chapter. So far, it seems to be working.

Let me know if you think I should just redo this chapter and try again.

 **Edit (March 12) :** It has come to my attention that at the bottom of the chapter were some extra notes that shouldn't have been there. I've removed them. Sorry for the confusion.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-one

Fury wasn't sure if he should be pleased or displeased to have, not only Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner willing to help, but also Tony Stark _and_ Thor. He had given Coulson the order to keep them all at the Command Bridge until he got done with Loki and met them there.

On his way back, he probably _should_ have stopped Serena from heading towards Loki, but they needed answers. He didn't know _what_ the relationship between the only demigod in his ranks and the Trickster God was, but if the murderous glee in those blue eyes had been any indicator, he didn't have to worry about a possible defector. The sheer intent behind those eyes would probably demand that he intervene though.

As it was, Fury wasn't sure how Clear-Sighted the members of the Avengers Initiative were, as a whole, but hopefully the talks about demigods and monsters and _other_ gods were avoided. There was only so much that any single human could handle, whether physically or mentally, and he didn't need to see if this would be what would make or break this mismatched team. A man could hope, and for now, Fury would hope. Not so much that he would feel discouraged or disheartened, but enough to further motivate himself into following this course of action.

When he got to the Command Bridge, Maria Hill looked ready to pull her weapon on Stark and it looked like Rogers just might be having one of the many personality clashes he figured would happen between the genius and the super soldier. Another reason why he didn't want the two on the same team at the same time. The ghost of Howard Stark hung over them both. One from Howard's past, the other from his future, and the very source of the discordant chasm between the two.

"Sit down." He ordered as he walked past them all in order to stand by the console that showed him Loki's prison. Fury needed to see what was going on in that room, and, if he had to, run interference. For now, he would put up an almost careless front that would show far more confidence in this encounter.

The more he thought about it, the more Fury was starting to fully believe that he should have prevented this encounter, this... _reunion_ until it would have given him and SHIELD a better advantage over their little guest.

"Already worried he's going to escape?" Stark asked, plopping down in one of the chairs and crossed an ankle over a knee. How the man could do that in a suit without causing loud rips, tears, or even getting uncomfortable was barely a noteworthy mystery.

"I'm waiting for the show to start." Again, another show of bravado that he didn't truly feel. He was a leader, however. The Director of SHIELD, in fact, and as such, he couldn't allow anyone to see any sign of weakness in himself. A glance at them all from his only good eye showed that those gathered at the table were either confused, curious, or both.

His attention was drawn back to the monitor - and because he was nice, Fury moved it so that it was on the large screen for them all to see - when he heard Loki chuckle. He had heard that chuckle before, and now that he knew some of the basics, he had to wonder at the sheer _depth_ of the information that had been held back.

He would be having _words_ with Serena when this mess was either blown over, or the next time he managed to catch her alone. Information was currency in their world. The lack of information, of their world's currency, could spell death... if they were lucky, that is.

"It's been a long time since I ran into one of _your_ kind." Nope, demigods were going to be mentioned. "Here I thought you were a dying breed." Loki had his back to his 'guest'. That was always a dangerous position to be in whenever a demigod was involved, but even more so when _this_ demigod was at your back.

"What's he talking about?" Trust Stark to interrupt. Fury had to pity Ms. Potts if she ever took the man to a movie theater. They'd probably have to buy the whole building in order to _stay_ in the movie, provided that the man didn't already get the movie on his own from some sort of early release.

"Later, Stark." It was the best way to keep Stark quiet, especially when Fury had no intention of actually _telling_ the man what Loki was talking about. He just had to hope that _Thor_ didn't fill anyone in. If luck was on his side, the other Norse God would assume that they _already_ knew, and simply weren't connecting the facts.

"Is that _really_ how you're going to greet _me_ , Lo?" The way Loki's eyes widened with a look of utter disbelief forming on his face was almost comical. It was even more comical when he spun around and _saw_ his 'guest'. The look of clear, honest _recognition_ made Fury feel slightly conflicted. The affairs of demigods and gods never fully made sense to him, but there had been something about the way Loki's face had expressed that amount of disbelief that struck him as... off.

However, Serena's tone hadn't been pleased, and from the way Loki slumped and held up his hands gave him a good idea of the expression she must of been wearing.

"You've grown, Little One." The attempt at a charming smile didn't seem to be working if the nervous edge to it was anything to go by. Or perhaps the nervous edge was in response to the expression?

"Who's that?" Stark didn't seem to be shy about trying to stay informed. It was a pity, however, that the man wouldn't be able to know the full extent of just _who_ Serena was.

"How does my brother know a mortal?" _Well, well, looks like I'm not the only one in the dark._ It made Fury feel just a little bit better. If Thor didn't know _what_ Serena was, chances looked a great deal higher that the whole of the demigod topic could be avoided and forgotten.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Thor." If Fury had to keep track of who knew which gods among all the people that worked in SHIELD, chances were high that Fury would need a whole warehouse just for _one_ pantheon.

He didn't want to _think_ about how many were _real_. Never mind compiling a list of which agents in SHIELD new more than one pantheon.

"Is that _all_ you have to say to me, Loki? After all this time?" Fury's attention was back to the live feed. Because he was curious, he zoomed the camera out so that most of the room was now visible. From here, he could see not only the cage, but the console that controlled the cage, and Serena.

This was the first time he was seeing and hearing Serena in a particularly dangerous mood. He couldn't help but wonder how much of that was _her_ and how much of that was the ghost of Barney Barton. Then again, did anyone ever escape the ghosts of the ones that came before them? The ones that taught them most if not everything that they knew?

"Well hell- _o_ beautiful! Is she single?" If he _didn't_ need Stark -

"Serena?" Two voices twined out in surprise and Fury glanced over. He had expected Rogers to recognize her, but _not_ Banner.

Either she had left something out in her report or he had translated the report wrong. Either was highly possible. However, he could see that the two men seemed surprised someone _else_ had recognize the woman. If things went well, that just might be the common ground for those two.

"Does everyone know her except me and Point Break?" Fury was well and truly wondering if he actually _needed_ Stark for this. It wouldn't be the first time where he wouldn't need a particularly problematic person involved in a difficult operation.

"No 'hello'? No, 'how are you?' Not even a god damned _apology_?" Fury's attention moved back - again - to the screen at the snarl. It wasn't common for the woman to snarl at anything. Though if Fury had to admit it, he would be the first to say that he had never seen her so angry either.

Loki was attempting to stand his ground while Serena was as close to the glass as would be considered polite and without pressing herself against it. It might be just Fury, but it looked like her skin was _rippling_. If that was a sign of her demigod powers, than he would have to update her file, if only to make sure that he could partner her with someone that wouldn't be bothered by it.

More questions. He needed a damn _rule book_ on demigods and what they _can_ and _can't_ do.

"I was told you were dead, but _believe_ me when I say I at least _attempted_ to keep my word."

"I think we need a side order of popcorn."

"Stark, shut up."

Everyone watched Serena as her jaw worked and flexed. "You know what the best thing is about being on this flying ship?" She was suddenly cheerful and it seem to make Loki _very_ nervous. Fury couldn't blame him, he'd be nervous too if he were in the man's - god's? - shoes.

"No?" The trickster seemed to try and brace himself.

Serena leaned in close, a dangerous smile on her face. "I get to make sure all safety releases work." Loki wasn't the only one who paled.

"She's joking. No way she's going to drop him." I'm not saving him. Was the underlying message in Stark's words. "She wouldn't… right?"

At this point, not even Fury was sure. This was a side of Serena he had never seen before or even had anyone _mention_ to him.

Now more than ever he was reminded of why he had her labelled as a loose cannon.


	32. Part 7 Section 3: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** Hello everyone! Not all that sure what to tell you other than I am currently sitting at home with a minor fever and either the cold or the flu and the inability to smell _anything_ at the moment. Or even think coherently very well.

In other words: real life happened, and I got stress-sick. Cry me a river, but here's an update.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-two

If there was anything Loki had come to be wary of, it was the woman now standing before him.

"Sá litli… " He saw the way her eyes flickered, the briefest glimpse beyond the anger she was showing him had been exposed and his heart clenched. "Fyrirgefðu. Mér þykir það leitt." Loki could see the conflict in her eyes. Anger warred with deadly rage, and deadly rage warred with love, love warred with loneliness, and loneliness warred and fuelled anger.

And underneath it all was grief and sorrow. Not in the intensity that he remembered, but still there.

"You have until I finish pushing buttons to explain." And there was his possible hope of redemption.

"After I last saw you I went straight to Asgard." Loki knew how fast she could move. At the moment she was at a slow stalk. "I didn't realize just how _many_ laws there were the prohibited my promise to you. I wheedled away at them all the same, convinced advisers that certain laws no longer had any importance, and even got Odin to repeal many of them after a few conversations."

Serena, his dear sweet Sá litli was at the console now, and frowning down at the buttons and switches.

"Sá litli, there was one obstacle left in my way to fully repealing the last few laws that I _knew_ I couldn't convince anyone else to repeal through proxies." Loki gently touched the glass wall closest to her. Hope flared in him when she looked at him.

And then plummeted when she flipped a switch and the floor opened beneath his cage.

"Thor was set to be coronated, and as he was then he would have _refused_ my request. I arranged events that would have seen it put off, at least for a few more years. Long enough for me to work at Thor, to convince _him_ to allow my one request."

"And yet he ended up on Midgar for a few days, Lo." That was a promising sign, the use of her name for him.

"Yes. I ended up on the throne, as _regent_. I didn't' have as much authority as I would if I was crowned, but I did what I could." His hand clenched into fists where they rested against the glass. "Then Thor's _friends_ started causing _trouble_." It _still_ burned at him. To have been so _close_ , to have almost completed the one goal that had come to _mean_ something, _anything_ to him.

"Suddenly everything started to become unstable, so I lied to Thor, tried to influence a more sympathetic change in him by keeping him near those mortals. If he felt _anything_ akin to what I felt, then when he came back to Asgard he wouldn't argue _too_ intensely to my request. Then his _friends_ started to ruin those plans and I was forced to use my contingency."

The plastic cap on his doom was flipped up.

"I sent the Destroyer, to force Thor's return quicker than planned. While that was happening I killed Laufey. Once Thor was back I wouldn't be able to keep the throne, but I could use my authority to remove a threat to Thor's untried, inexperience one." And he had, everything had been going so _smoothly_ at that point.

"Then what?" Her voice was bland, neutral. Her eyes though, betrayed her curiosity.

"Thor returned sooner than I expected. We fought. I tried to perform a genocide, which, I need to say, that Thor tried first." A small smile was his reward and Loki considered it a battle won. "Then he destroyed the Bridge."

Those overly expressive blue eyes widened. "Yes. I was surprised too. Odin awoke and… I fell into the Void." He glanced towards the camera - oh he _knew_ it was there. It was the source of his current edit - and then back to her, _willing_ her to understand that he would explain, in fuller detail, in private.

There were some things too personal to speak of with strangers and potential enemies listening in.

Loki let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when she closed the cap over the red button. He all but collapsed onto the bench when she sealed the floor beneath the cage.

"I understand… but I'm not forgiving you."

Loki thumped his head against the glass. "Þú ert ómögulegt."

"Perhaps. But you stole from me." Loki's head snapped up to stare at her.

"I have _never_ stolen from you." What in the Nine was she talking about?

"Six feet tall, blond, blue eyes, lean, muscular shoulders and arms, ringing any bells?" Loki thought _very_ carefully on that. "Had a bow?"

And _there_ was the bell.

"What of him?" Loki watched her, saw her eyes narrow and heard the frustrated growl. " _Please_ tell me he isn't your lover."

Her expression suddenly morphed to a mix of horror and disgust. "Ew! No! _Ew_!" Loki had to grin at her response. He had forgotten just how _fun_ it was to tease her at times. "Do you _not_ know his _name_?"

That made him frown. "I didn't exactly _ask_ nor did he _offer_." Loki studied her carefully. "If not a lover, then what is he to you? You would not have accused me of _theft_ over a mere _friend_." He knew her well enough to say that.

"Let's start with his name. _Clint Barton._ " Clint Barton? What did knowing his name -

Suddenly it clicked. The features had felt familiar to him, and that had been half his reason for bending the man to his will. Now though he was able to connect the man's features to another, one long dead.

"The brother of your father." Apparently his whispered revelation hadn't been quiet enough. The murderous and shocked expression told Loki he had, accidentally, outed a well kept secret. "Oops."

* * *

 **Translations in order of appearance** :

Little One. - Loki

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. - Loki

Little One (2x) - Loki

You are impossible - Loki


	33. Part 7 Section 4: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** Still sick.

Giving you all a double feature update so **make sure you start at chapter 32**. With that said... I can only say this: Tony took over my pen and wouldn't shut up.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-three

"That was better than the TV drama that Pepper likes to watch!" Tony didn't have any idea about the connection between certain people beyond what was stated or implied. But, judging from the startled twitch of the red head - he had known her as Natalia, but her name was… Natasha - beside him, that news had been a _revelation_.

After that the girl - no one had told him her name, but Bruce and Stars Spangled Underpants had both called her Serena - had disappeared.

JARVIS would be done hacking soon, which meant that, soon, he could do as much digging as he pleased. For now though, he was helping Bruce configure a few scanners.

"So, what can you tell me about Serena?" The name rolled off his tongue in a way that Tony found himself liking. Just because he and Pepper were an item didn't mean that he wouldn't look and joke and imply. As it was, everyone else he knew about, either personally or from reading about them.

Bruce looked at him. "She can keep the Other Guy calm." Well, that cleared up how _he_ knew her. "She's dangerous. Just enough to make _him_ stir every time she gets close enough." Oh… oh wow. What could threaten the _Hulk_?

"Really? Do I? Does anyone else?"

"Yes. No. And Thor… in that order."

 _What_ did it _take_ to get _on_ that guy's radar? "Anything else?" Tony was curious, more so than he should be, especially if he was going to have to worry about someone being overly chummy with the bad guy… that may or may not have the hots for the only one that he seemed to be almost afraid of.

Talk about having an odd kink… Not like Tony had much room to talk considering the things that _he_ enjoyed behind closed doors - and sometimes not-so-closed doors… or no doors at all - but that wasn't really the point, was it?

"Like I said, she's dangerous. From what she said and implied, she has… similar issues that I do." Talk about _ammo_! "Sounded like she had better control though." Well _damn_. "Knows her plants though. Especially if they have medical purposes."

Bruce typed a few things into one of the computers, and Tony ate a few blueberries from his ever present bag of them. "Sounds suspicious. Even _Fury_ didn't know she was connected to the demented reindeer, and he knows _everything_."

Tony didn't like the fact that SHIELD had information on _him_ , but this time it was almost creepy. The occasional checks on his phone told him that, so far, JARVIS couldn't find _anything_ on Serena other than very vague mission records. It was like it was all _so_ classified that no one was _daring_ to write down anything detailed.

To be honest, it sounded more like a cover up to him.

"He's just _one man_ , Tony. I doubt he knows _everything_ ,"

Tony turned to look at Bruce, who was now staring at him. "Didn't think you'd be so optimistic, Bruce. He's a _spy_. His _secrets_ have secrets and I'm betting she's probably one of the _biggest_ ones he has."

"You wouldn't be wrong." Jumping, Tony whirled around to find Serena - all tall, long, lithe, and beautiful - ogling - well, not _ogling_ , so much as _eyeing_ \- the scepter. "But for my safety and the safety of those like me," Blue eyes locked onto him even as he thought _huh, guess Loki_ was _onto something about separate types of humans_. "I'm going to have to ask that you don't dig on the matter, Mr. Stark." Was that a _sword_ on her hip? Who uses _swords_ anymore? For that matter, where had she even _gotten_ one?

"Serena." Trust Bruce to break the slightly tense atmosphere. "Loki made it sound like you weren't… " Human. They could all translate and/or finish that sentence.

"Unless something changes, I am everything a human is. Bruce. Don't. Please." _Damn she's good_. Tony thought as those blue eyes became slightly pained as they focused on Bruce. "It relates _very_ strongly to our last conversation." _Color me curious_. Tony looked at Bruce, who had, at first, been looking as if he _would_ press further, only to have a look of realization and sympathy take over. _Am I the only one in the dark? I hate being in the dark._

Tony Stark _hated_ that feeling.

"Can you read the inscriptions on the scepter?" _Son of a bitch! Bruce!_ Tony mentally screamed at the very obvious change in subject.

Serena shook her head and those loose red locks moved with the motion. "It's familiar, Nordic actually, but I'm not very good at translating them. It's been too long." _Too long? Have you been able to read them before?_ More notes to go into a file that _he_ would be making on her later for his own information

"How do you know Loki?" Tony blurted it out, drawing everyone's attention to him, including Star Spangled Underpants', seeing as to how he had just walked in. "You both seemed _really_ familiar with each other back there." _Are you a mole? If you are we're going to have to take you out before you make a move._

"The only thing I'm telling any of you about _that_ is that he gave me _these_." Tony's heart shuddered when _wicked_ daggers - _throwing knives_ , his mind corrected - suddenly appeared between the fingers of a raised hand, as if by magic - _but magic isn't real. It's just not-yet-understood technology, possibly from the future_ , was the rational follow-up thought - and then she was speaking again. "We _were_ close. I'm not sure where we stand _now_ , but that doesn't mean anything."

"Doesn't it?" _And he speak!_ Rogers was finally making himself known. "In the past few _hours_ I think I learned more about you from the _enemy_ than I ever did over the past two _years_." _Does_ everyone _know her?_ At this rate Tony just might join Thor in the 'I Don't Know The Redhead' club.

Hmm… too wordy and not catchy enough.

Tony watched as Serena turned to face Rogers, her eyes slightly narrow. "You don't _know_ me, Steve. Neither does Bruce. So with all due _respect_ , stay out of my personal affairs. Trust me when I say you'll save yourself a _great_ deal of _misery_ if you do." The words sounded like a threat, but the tone sounded more like a plea. It was really hard to tell with that musical lilt of her.

"It's interfering with the mission, Serena." Rogers' eyes hardened. "Or would you rather go by _Barton_?"

It well and truly surprised Tony - and he was willing to bet that it surprised Bruce and Rogers too - at the sudden expression of pain, grief, and _sorrow_ that name seemed to put on her face. "That, _Captain_ , was below the belt." Serena closed her eyes and Tony could almost _tell_ that she was fighting back tears. _Holy shit._ "As I said, you don't _know_ me. For _your_ safety, keep it that way."

And like that, she was disappearing from the room as silently as she had appeared. _Former Ninja idea: 1, Super Secret Badass Agent training: 0_.

A few seconds later and Tony's phone went off. _Bingo!_ Pulling it out, Tony was, originally, thrilled to get _some_ type of information on a cross listed reference that JARVIS had found with her name in it… only to feel his stomach drop once he actually _read_ some of the key bits of information. "Oh. And I thought _I_ had it bad."

"What?" Tony didn't bothering answering the question. As it was, he wasn't even sure who it was that had even _asked_ it. Instead, he put the results of JARVIS's search onto one of the main screens.

"Her dad killed about four hundred SHIELD agents, and that's not including those that aren't, officially, listed as SHIELD agents, informants, and what-have-yous." Tony felt that he had to sum up that bit of information for them, if only to make them understand the _depth_ of the man's capabilities and why SHIELD seemed to avoid mentioning _that_ Barton. He pointed towards a particular section of the report that had caught his attention. " _She_ was the one that killed him. Her own _dad_."

Tony could and would say that he hated his father. But to hate him enough to kill him? Not even _he_ could have done _that_. "Think Loki made her do it?" That was the only explanation Tony could think of that made sense, at least given the bits of information that he currently had.

One didn't _still_ mourn someone that had died if they didn't _love_ that person. Even more so if you were the killer _of_ that someone.

"It'd fit with what she told me about him, her dad I mean." Tony didn't have to look to be able to tell that Rogers was regretting his comment towards her.


	34. Part 7 Section 5: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** To hell with it. I'm being generous enough to give you guys a few more chapters to tide you over until I type up a few more chapters and write out a few more. Hopefully you shall all be kept entertained by these chapters until then.

And yeah, this is mostly just a filler chapter.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-four

It was stupid. It was foolish. It was, by far, _the_ dumbest thing Serena had ever done in regards to the whole situation… but she needed it.

"Lo." Loki looked up from the book he had been reading - she didn't even bother questioning where he had gotten it. Chances were high that it had been in one of his pocket dimensions - at the sound of both her voice and the nickname. One look at her and the book was disappearing back into his personal sub-dimension even as he walked towards her.

Serena knew about the camera in the corner of the room, knew that everyone linked or directly involved in this new mess would be watching now… but she didn't care. She sat on the floor in front of the cage, disregarding the chair that had been placed in the room.

"Sá litli, what is it?" Looking at him, Serena couldn't help but just study him. Worried green eyes were searching her for any obvious signs of her distress. Those sharp, borderline features between masculine and feminine were just barely creased in even more concern. The once tidy, well kept black hair was a wild mess that looked like he had been in a battle for a long time.

"Drop the illusion, blóð faðir." Serena watched his expression flicker as his lips pressed together in slight displeasure. "I want to talk to the real you. Not the image you're hiding behind." Pride warred with concern and Serena kept silent, letting him make the final choice on his own.

It was always tricky business trying to get him to do something he was loathe to do, but Serena had had _years_ to perfect the method to get him to do _just_ that.

Sighing heavily, Loki sat down from his kneeling position and slowly, the illusion dissolved from him. Serena had seen many things in her life, but seeing the last remaining pillar of strength from her childhood so beaten made her stomach twist.

One eyes was so badly bruised it was amazing that he could still _see_ out of it. His nose showed signs of being recently broken and almost poorly set back into place. His cheek had a fading bruise, but the scabbing laceration on it told anyone who was looking that his cheekbone had been, at best, fractured from the force of the blow. Even his lips were split and bore signs of a past beating.

The way he was sitting, one hand - bruised as well with evidence that his fingers might have been broken at one point - on the glass between them and the other arm casually by his side, but too close to his ribs, with his back straight - _too_ straight - told of more injuries carefully hidden away by the heavy fabrics of his clothes.

"Only for you, Sá litli, would I ever do this." Even his _voice_ , usually smooth and dripping with aristocratic mischief, was hoarse and rough.

Tears pricked dangerously at her eyes as she placed a hand flat against the glass over his. "Torture." She had seen her dad do something similar in his darker, angrier moments on someone he had captured. Serena _knew_ the signs better than anyone her age _should_.

Even though it must have hurt, Loki still grinned at her. "I'll live." I always do. The grin faded to a reassuring smile. "The pain didn't break me." There was pride there, pride only a warrior would feel over that declaration.

Watching him, Serena could only nod. "You thought I was dead." She might have been angry at the time, but that comment had been floating around in the back of her head. "Why?"

Loki sighed at that, his hand sliding away from the glass to rest in his lap. "I didn't break from the pain, Little One. I, foolishly, told them that there was nothing they could do _to_ me that would make me break." His eyes looked over her form, as if to reassure _himself_ that she was still there, that she were _real_. "For what might have been a few days, they let me be. When they came back, they showed me what seemed like undeniable proof that you were dead."

He reached up again, as if to touch her cheek, but the glass stopped him. "The physical pain didn't break me, but the thought of you, dead, proof of it even, did." Loki withdrew his hand and seemed to content himself with just studying her. "How old are you now? The Void has no reason to mark time."

"I'm twenty now, since we last, truly, saw each other." Serena watched him nod, closing his green eyes - _god_ that must _hurt_ \- as he did so.

"Three years in the Void, then." His eyes opened and focused on her again. "Five years since we both lost your mortal father." And didn't that, _still,_ feel like a punch to the diaphragm. "Serena."

Looking at him, Serena could see the soft calculation in his eyes. "I have an army."

"So do I." The quick blink was the only sign of surprise from him. It was always difficult to surprised a trickster, even more so when it was a trickster _god_.

"We can kill him, Serena. It won't take much to change locations, to cause a distraction to force _him_ elsewhere." Tempting. It was _oh_ so tempting.

"Don't mistake me when I say this, Lo, but it wouldn't change anything." Hatred and rage boiled inside her. "Dad will still be dead."

"But the _cause_ of _both_ our suffering will be dead as well." It was odd, how they were speaking so casually of murder - or was it assassination? - as if they were talking about the weather or how their day was going.

"I don't yet have the strength for it, Lo. And you're in no condition for a full out battle." The pinched scowl he gave her told her that, while he knew that, he wasn't _pleased_ about it.

The scowl softened and was replaced with an expression she was long since familiar with. "You didn't come to me to plot murder, even if neither of us act on it."

Her lips quirked into a strained smile. "No." And like that she felt like she was fifteen again, seeking comfort from the only person she had left. "I don't know who I am anymore. Or even _what_ I am for that matter." Chatting with Tony Stark, and then the slight argument with Steven, and even the brief exchange of words with Bruce had her unsure of herself.

Loki rapped lightly on the glass. "If only this weren't between us." He focused on her and Serena could read the open, bare expression of reassurance and paternal love and _pride_. "You are Serena Barton, Little One. Daughter by name to Charles Bernard Barton, also known as Barney Barton. Daughter by blood to _me_ , Loki of Asgard, raised Odinson, born Laufeyson." He gave her a crooked grin. "You are not the only one that was raised by someone not of your blood."

Wasn't that just a kick in the ass?

"And even if neither of us wish to acknowledge it, you are the flesh and blood daughter of _Apollo_." His tone said enough of how he felt towards the Olympian.

* * *

 **Translations in order of appearance** :

Little One - Loki

Blood father - Serena

Little One - Loki


	35. Part 7 Section 6: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** GUESS WHO FINALLY DECIDED TO SPEAK TO ME?! No? No takers? Meh, didn't think I'd get any sort of response. Oh well.

As with the other chapters, not all that happy how this turned out, but Thor wanted to use the pen, so... he got the pen. Short chapter, but Thor isn't a poet, and neither Loki nor Serena wanted to help him out.

Once again, still sick. Still need to type up more chapters. Still need to _write_ more chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-five

Of all the things to have expected from Loki, _none_ of these revelations had been near it.

To be honest, Thor had well and truly believed his brother-in-name-and- arms had wanted to conquer Midgard because the truth of his parentage would forever deny him Asgard's throne.

Seeing his brother all but physically broken had been a shock. Thor had seen the self-pride in those green eyes when Loki had declared that the physical pain hadn't broken him. A swell of pride had filled his breast, knowing that his brother would have rather died a warrior's death, like any true Asgardian, than to have broken like a coward.

That alone had reinforced Thor's fading respect and admiration for him.

But then to find out his brother had broken from a _parental_ pain, a pain that his brother had felt more than any other, had made him want to weep for him. It was said that there was no worse pain than knowing one had outlived their own child.

To have claimed another man's child as his own told Thor that his brother loved that mortal woman currently speaking to him. To have shown a weakness _to_ her told Thor that Loki _trusted_ her.

No matter how Thor looked at it, he needed to meet with Loki's blood daughter.

Both jumped when he burst into the room, and it pained Thor to see, with his own eyes, the damage wrought to his brother. Pained him further when a guarded look passed over those tortured features and an illusion of prime health settled into place. Thor watched his brother gracefully get to his feet and motioned towards his blood daughter to do the same.

He could understand the tension in the young woman's body, but to see Loki equally tense told Thor that Loki didn't trust _him_ with her. To compound that fact, he could hear the deep, rumbling growl that came from him. It was the biggest show of distrust and warning Loki had ever aimed _at_ him.

Thor watched the woman as she retreated, backing up towards the control panel that kept his brother in the glass prison. He understood the implication even better than he understood her defensive stance and the uneasy, but equally dangerous growl coming from her.

She didn't believe she could survive a fight against him. Despite his current condition and _knowing_ he wasn't a physical match against Thor unless he changed forms, Loki was fully prepared to defend his blood daughter.

Even if it killed him.

Thor held up his hands, showing that he didn't have Mjölnir, and his full attention on Loki. The woman would take her cue from him. "Brother. _Peace_. I mean her no harm."

"I recall otherwise when all the others were concerned." It pained him to see Loki this defensive, but brother was correct in his snarled statement.

"You and I both know I've changed since those days."

"Perhaps in your outlook of life, but I have yet to see how far that expands."

Thor took a half step forward, to try and attempt to calm him. Belatedly, he realized that was, perhaps, the wrong action to take. The next thing he was aware of was being thrown backwards by the familiar feel of Loki's magic. He understood the message very loudly and very clearly.

There would be no reasoning with the parental side of his brother, a side he had rarely seen. Turning his attention to his niece, Thor had to ignore the change in tone of his brother's growl. "I swear I will not harm you unless you give me cause to do so."

Settled defensively behind the console, the woman watched him with narrowed blue eyes. Thor could see that her hand was already on the switch that would release his brother. Distrust was easily and openly expressed on her face.

What stories had his brother told her of him to make this her immediate response? Had he truly been that horrible before he had learned his lesson through exile?

"Swear." He blinked at that. Even though Thor _had_ sworn, he _knew_ that wasn't what she was referring to. "Swear upon your right to inherit the throne of Asgard and upon your ability to wield Mjölnir. Swear on your honor and on the grave of your forefathers that you will keep to your word." Thor had to blink at the _gall_ of the woman. A glance at his brother showed that he was all but fluffed in pride at her invocation.

Yes, even Thor would be proud to see how seriously she knew their traditions and how she hadn't hesitated to invoke them.

"I so swear." Finally, Loki calmed and Thor got back to his feet. Things _looked_ to be settled, but Thor made sure to keep half his attention on his brother. He had no intention of accidentally triggering another protective display.

Well aware that he was being watched as intently as Geri and Freki would over a battlefield, Thor took his first, true look of his niece. Wild red hair, defiant blue eyes, and Thor could see a few features that reminded him strongly of Loki.

He wasn't sure he liked the implication.

What he _did_ like, and what would help her greatly should she ever have to meet the All-Father, Odin Borson, his father and Loki's… adopted father, was that she had the air of a blooded warrior about her.

Thor turned his attention back to Loki. He wasn't at all surprised that he was, still, being scrutinized worse than a carcass by a vulture. "I will atest on her behalf, should it be needed." It was the least he could do for his brother, who had suffered more than anyone should even _before_ he had fallen into the Void. Thor would admit that he had not been the _best_ brother to him.

A flicker of surprise was quickly covered up by a cool, almost detached expression. "See to it she remains unharmed by the mortals here." Apparently he was not the only one his brother didn't trust, but it seemed that the cool dismissive words were still his brother's way of calling for a truce between them.

And like that, Loki turned and proudly stalked back to his bench before seating himself upon it as if it were a throne. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Thor had to smile. Nothing, it seemed, was capable of destroying his brother's love of dramatics.

A snort from his right showed that his opinion seemed to be shared.


	36. Part 7 Section 7: Avengers Assemble

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone. I am sure you are all happy to see another chapter. Sorry for the long delay between chapters, but real life takes priority. Also, I haven't had the time to sit down and write more chapters, and it's only in the last few hours that I've actually been able to sit down and transcribe the chapters onto google drive.

Yes, I have this on google drive and then later upload it onto fanfic. It's mostly there for the viewing pleasure of Ivorycrawler, and because she has an AO3 account, she has my permission to upload it there so that more people can view and read this.

To further note, however, do not expect another update for a while. I'm still trying to write up more chapters (transcribe them) and then I need to sit down and write more. To add to it, I also have an internship for the summer with the possibility of being involved in a research project, _plus_ I'm currently in an online summer class to try and make sure that I can graduate sooner.

Knowing all that, the next update _might_ be happening next month _at the earliest_. I cannot and will not make promises that I'm not sure I can keep.

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-six

Serena knew that her mostly anonymous existence wouldn't last, but to have it all ended so suddenly was a bit of a shock to her.

Being escorted by Thor to the room where everyone seemed to have gathered was… odd. Eyeing his broad form, Serena couldn't help but _still_ feel a bit uneasy. If there was one theme to all the stories she had been told about Thor, it was that he was a man of his word.

But…

Her eyes went down to Mjölnir and her fingers gained their familiar itch. The enchantments on it made her skin tingle and she wanted nothing more than the chance to poke and prod at the war hammer, to figure out what those things _were_ and -

"And look who shows up! Little Miss Secrets!" Serena slid her eyes over to Tony. "So, what _other_ gods exist, or is the whole thing about Apollo some sort of code phrase?"

"Stark, back off." Fury snapped. Serena knew that it was more over the loss of a highly kept secret that could, and most likely _would_ threaten his organization now that it was out, than in her defense.

"It's fine, sir." Having the Avengers knowing about the gods didn't really matter, if only because sooner or later the Mist would cloud and alter those memories. When that one eye landed on her, Serena shrugged. She already had a good cover story ready to spill out of her mouth. "With the exception of the Black Widow and yourself, everyone in this room was marked for the Avengers Initiative."

"Wait, you were marked for it?" Steve stared at her as if he was only now seeing her for the first time. Apparently he was getting a few too many shocks to the system when it came to information about her.

"Yes. As I told you, Fury personally recruited me after my dad died." _I was actually the reason for it._

"You mean after you killed him?" Serena glared at Tony's off-handed question.

"Do you, or do you not, want an explanation?" That seemed to have shut him up… for now. _How the hell can anyone_ stand _being near him?_ "First off, my tongue is bound. There are things I _cannot_ say unless someone else who _knows_ the secret shares the information _first_." Serena gestured in the direction of Loki's cell. "He bound my tongue as a means of protection. If I can't talk about a sworn secret, then I can't divulge it. Doesn't matter if I get tortured or brainwashed, and I'm _still_ going to have a go at him about _that_ , but anyway, I won't be able to _speak_." A look around showed that everyone other than Thor and Fury didn't seem to believe her on that.

"Seriously? Your tongue was bound?"

"Would you like to see the inscription, Tony?"

"Well, since you're offering."

Rolling her eyes, Serena stuck her tongue out. She knew what they would see, even if she saw their knee-jerk reaction. Then again, it wasn't everyday someone saw a pulsing green mark in the shape of two intertwined serpents _moving_ over a piece of skin… or was it, technically, considered a muscle?

"What the hell?!" Pulling her tongue back in, Serena flexed her jaw, testing if she _could_ explain.

When she felt her tongue numb, she shook her head. "I knew my brother excelled in magic… but I never knew he was _this_ proficient in the arts."

"So says the man that ridiculed him over his skill set." It was a knee-jerk reaction for her to defend Loki when he couldn't do so himself. She saw the look Thor gave her. "When he was around he told me all about you, Odin, Frigga, _your friends_ , and Asgard. I think even _you_ know who would have been spared a few bad retellings." Thor winced and Serena rolled her wrists, satisfied that she had made her point. "Look, knowing that people from one mythology and pantheon is real, is it really hard to believe that the Greek ones are, also, real?"

"Until I see proof, I'll just take your word as a hypothesis. What's with the sword?" _Trust Stark to have all the questions._ Or at least be the only one fast enough to voice them.

Of course, her tongue numbed and she had to shake her head. She settled for her fall back answer. "Ask Fury." The man knew and could -

"Sir, you're not going to believe this." A monitor suddenly changed to show Maria's face, and from the tight pinch of her lips, she wasn't happy about something.

"Report. Tell me something _normal_ is happening." Serena couldn't blame him for wanting 'normal'. If _she_ only had to worry about being Clear-Sighted like almost all SHIELD agents were, and had all this happen, 'normal' sounded like a pretty good vacation.

"We know she's here! Look, just let us talk to her!"

"Oh _hell_ no." Serena blurted out. She _knew_ that voice. "Maria, how the _hell_ did they _get_ here?" The senior agent gave her a dead panned look even as Serena felt mischievous amusement from Stormwing. Well, she had wondered why the griffon had been staying silent for so long…

"Ask a certain griffon."

"Those are real?"

"Do you know what he had to _do_ just to _find_ it?"

Voices were starting to mix together while Serena rubbed the bridge of her nose as she listened to Annabeth and someone else argue with Maria, Tony firing off questions, and who knows who else saying what. "That bitch ratted me out."

Through the empathy bond, Serena felt and heard Stormwing laugh.


	37. Part 7 Section 8: Avengers Assemble

**Author's note:** Has it really been almost a month since I updated? Wow time flies!

Okay, so I've gotten a few reviews that I feel like I should respond to:

Sayonara Yasashii Akumu: Your reviews always make me smile when I read them. To your second review (which I'm fairly certain you made in response to my AN back in chapter 30, I'll go back and edit that name once I'm finished with this part of Serena's story, and yes, that means I'm already planning a damn sequel, lol. And yeah, I know that she seems to have a legend status and I'm kinda not happy about that. However, with the things I'm gonna throw her into, I think that'll get washed away, but for now we'll see a bit more of what she can and cannot do, but the drawbacks to what she _can_ do will be seen later.

Much later.

Rose: I'm sure you're not the only one that's confused, but that part of Serena's family tree will be answer towards the end of the story, so if you can, hang on until then! ^.^

AACM25: I'll respond to both your review here and I don't mean to sound snobby or condescending: One, competition is not the same as being matched, it merely implies that there are multiple people striving for the exact same goal or position. Two, actually the events you're speaking of take place _after_ book 3/Percy's third summer at Camp. It's easy to get events in the timeline mixed up and I'm always afraid that I have, but because you meant this as constructive criticism, I'm going to thank you anyway.

Guest: By far my favorite review. I laughed when I read your review and shared it with my friend, ivorycrawler. After I read your review the first time, Fury's expression came to mind and I laughed _again_ from it. It's my goal in this story to try and humanize the characters as much as possible because it seems to me that a lot of fans see all the characters one way or the other based on how they're portrayed in canon and, hopefully, I'm doing a decent job of it.

Once again, if anyone sees any mistakes or errors that they either wish clarification on or to simply bring to my attention so that I can doubt check my meaning and notes, please tell me. There are times when I get my words mixed up or use the wrong word by accident

 **Disclaimer:** If you can google it and find at least 20 pages of it, or recognize it, then quite obviously, I do not own it.

* * *

Bitter Coffee Chapter Thirty-seven

Truth be told, Percy didn't know what to expect. This would be his first time even _seeing_ Mysterious Serena, and he… well, he had an image of her built up in his head.

From the stories he had been told by Hera, annabeth, clarisse, and a few people from Apollo's Cabin, Percy knew that serena was someone that could turn the tides. Even though he had Achillies' Cures, they still had to fight against an army of monsters, former friends, Titans, and Kronos himself.

Against a camp that seemed like it only had a little over a hundred people, the odds didn't look promising.

He looked up from where he was sitting when he heard footsteps. Annabeth elbowed him harshly in the ribs. "Listen. Whatever happens, don't insult her. Remember Hera's warning."

Percy winced at the reminder. "Yeah, I remember. She's more griffon than human, and stormwing is more human than griffon." It made Percy wonder if the same could be said for him and Groover a few years down the road.

Still though, it had taken Annabeth's careful explaining to get Stormwing to calm down from Percy's accidental insult. And if that was what a _tame_ griffon was like…

"Hello Annabeth. Been awhile, hasn't it." Percy jumped and spun in his chair, getting his first look at Mysterious Serena.

One look and he had the feeling he knew why the Ares Cabin liked her so much. Loose red hair made her look wild and fierce. High cheek bones and the way she held herself made him think of a general. The sword on her hip, Celestial Bronze by the look of it, helped that image.

Most importantly, her blue eyes were dark with annoyance, but Percy could tell that there was power and strength there.

"Serena. You're looking well." Percy looked over at Annabeth, and she was trying to sound casual, but Percy could see the pulse in her neck. _She's nervous_. Percy looked back at serena. Was she really that good? That powerful?

"What the hell is this?" Percy looked past Serena and saw a group of people walking into the room. "How the hell did you get on my Helicarrier?" One person behind the man that just spoke - the speaker was dark skinned with an eye patch. Was he trying to be a pirate? - had the same aura of feel that Percy got whenever he met with one of the gods in disguise.

"That's Thor, little Half-Blood. Norse God of Thunder." The breath of the words tickled his ear and Percy yelped loudly, whirring around, hands scrambling for Riptide -

Behind him Serena was boredly looking over a pen before she uncapped it. "Nice." Riptide sprang into existence and Percy couldn't help but stare.

"Serena, _please_." Annabeth tried to reach out but jerked back a bit. "We're only here to talk."

"I gathered as much when Stormwing dropped you here." In a move that was as fluid as water over rocks, Serena slid into a seat at the table. "Everyone, the girl is Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena, budding architect." Annabeth flushed lightly in praise as eyes landed on her. "The boy is a demigod as well, but I don't recognize him."

Swallowing thickly - he hadn't felt _this_ nervous before in a long time. It was actually kinda odd - Percy resumed his seat when eyes landed on him. "Percy Jackson, Son of - "

"Poseidon. So _you're_ the one Luke kept talking about."

Percy wasn't the only one that looked at Serena. "You've spoken to him?" If they had been in contact, was all this for no reason then? Was she on Kronos' side?

"Not for a few months, almost a year now." A troubled look settled on her face. "Which is unusual for us. We make a point of at least speaking once a month."

"Then you don't know about Kronos."

"Who?" The others had taken seats at the table, all except the pirate guy.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Fury, for the record, this is about another matter." She looked over at the man in a concert shirt. "Tony, stay out of this. This is… personal." Those blue eyes landed on Percy again. If it weren't for the eyes, he wouldn't have thought she was a daughter of Apollo. "I'm more than _aware_ of Kronos, Percy. We've chatted a few times when I was… fourteen? Definitely when I was fifteen, but not after."

Percy couldn't help but stare at her. He had been told about the closeness between Luke and her, about the similarities between the two in their lives, but to see that their lives had practically parallelled? Another thought hit him, and even as he thought it, he couldn't stop the feeling of dread that pooled inside him. _That meant…_

"Serena, we need your help. The _gods_ need your help." Annabeth started to explain. The dark chuckle from serena made her stop before she could get any further.

Capping Riptide, serena flicked it over the table and Percy caught it, glad to have his weapon back. "Not my problem. This war of yours had been in the making for _centuries_. Those bastards are getting their comeuppance." She leaned back in her seat, steepling her fingers in her lap. "You, of all people Annabeth, should have known my answer. Luke would have told you, seeing as to how it's the very _reason_ why I left the camp."

"They have an _army_ , Serena! Come on! Whatever it was Apollo did, you can't want him _dead_ over it!"

It was _the_ wrong thing for Annabeth to say, and before she had even finished saying it, Percy knew it.

Something dark and cruel passed over her face. Silent as a leopard, Serena got to her feet and Percy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Annabeth paled and took a step back, also sensing the danger she had accidentally raised. Stalking around the table, one of serena's hands trailed over the table top. If that had been the end of that action, Percy's eyes wouldn't have been riveted to it.

The fingers seemed to turn into claws, and the tips were sharp enough to leave distinct scratches in the polished surface. It was only because Percy had an up close and personal view that he recognized the form serena's left hand had taken.

Did an empathy bond, eventually, turn a demigod into the same species as the one they shared a bond with?

"You know _nothing_ of what Apollo did." Percy snapped his attention back to serena, saw that she was now circling Annabeth. "If you _knew_ the _details_ , knew what _Luke_ knew, you wouldn't be here." A dark smile touched those lips. "Oh no Annabeth. I _see_ you now. Unloved and unwanted by your family, you created a new one with your fellow demigods. The worst this though, is that no matter how hard you try, you'll _always_ be left behind."

"Stop it." It was a weak plea and it was enough to bring Percy to his feet.

"Should I? Even you know is this the _truth_ , Annabeth. First Thalia, then Luke, and then Thalia _again_." Serena was behind Annabeth now, bent down so that she was speaking into her ear. "Who's next? Who _else_ will leave you for one reason or another? You _can't_ keep them _close_ and the more you _try_ , the quicker they _slip away_."

"Stop it! Leave her alone!" Anger welled inside him as he glared at the older demigod. "You're no better than Kronos!"

Dark blue eyes slid towards him and Serena straightened. Slowly, she started towards him. Percy stood his ground, hand gripping the pen, ready to uncap it. It might not do anything against another demigod, or even a mortal, but it was still a weapon.

"I _see_ you now, Percy Jackson. Your mother sacrificed much for the sake of protecting you." she started to circle him, and the one talon lightly, almost lovingly, scratched at the air in front of his face. "A child will always love the parent that raised them. But tell me, do you know the reason _why_ you fight? _Would_ you fight for them if you the length and breadth of their cruelty?"

"They're family. That's all I _need_ to know." As far as he was concerned it was all that _mattered_. Percy couldn't help but twitch - it was _not_ a flinch - when he heard that soft, hollow, breathless laugh. It sounded almost… broken.

"So are the Titans, but that's not the point here." Those eyes fixed on him again. "And if Poseidon demanded the death of your mother? Her death as proof of your faith, of your obedience and loyalty to the gods? Would you do it?"

"He wouldn't do that! He'd never _ask_ that!" Anger was traded for horror.

" _Wouldn't_ he, Percy? Wouldn't he _demand_ it if you loved her more than him? If you had _no friends_ at the camp? _No further connection_ to him and _his_ family?"

Percy swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly drier than a desert. History lessons on the Greek gods suddenly filled his mind. The gods weren't always nice, or so the stories had always said. "Not my mother. He _loves_ her."

" _Does_ he? Or was he only _attracted_ to her? Tell me Percy, did he help your mother after she had you? After you joined camp?" Serena suddenly turned away from him and Percy had to look at the other people in the room. Why weren't they objecting?

"Would you do it, I wonder, if it was either kill her or have _him_ kill _you_?" Percy's heart stopped and he looked at her. Serena was no looking over her griffon hand, as if it were a particularly interesting bug instead of her _hand_. "Still no, Percy? Then what if it was her death or the death of everyone else you came to care for? Your bonded, the ones you've started to call friends, or maybe… " serena turned so that she was looking at him and slowly, she pointed a talon at Annabeth. "Her."

"No." Horror swirled inside him. "If those were my options, I'd die first!"

"And if _your_ life was the _only_ thing that _protected_ them from _worse_? From monsters? From mortals easily influenced by them? Or perhaps from being cursed, to be forever locked inside their own _minds_ while their bodies committed atrocities that they would scream and weep over, _forever_ denied _death_." Serena stepped backwards, towards Annabeth.

She grabbed Annabeth's chin and made her look at Percy. "Would you still rather die, if Poseidon told you 'her or your mother, or I'll have them kill each other' ?" Percy stared at them both. He wanted to look away, to vocally deny everything, and yet…

What if Poseidon _did_ ask him those questions? Ask him to _choose_ between which world to stay in? Worse yet, what if Poseidon _and Janus_ demanded this from him?

Annabeth's eyes were screaming at him. "Or would you rather someone _else_ made that choice _for_ you?"

What?

Percy actually _looked_ at the scene now. It was the _human_ hand that had Annabeth's chin. The _griffon_ hand was flexing, then it posed and started for Annabeth's throat.

The next thing Percy knew, Riptide was in his hand, he was shoving Annabeth down and Riptide _sank into_ Serena's chest. He froze, staring at Riptide and then at Serena… who didn't seem surprised. Just… pleased.

Then she dissolved into golden dust and Percy stepped away. Was that going to be his fate too? Because of the empathy bond would he - ?

The sound of clapping drew his attention to the side and Percy froze. _What in Hades' name?_ Perhaps he had actually cracked and gone insane because what he was seeing did _not_ make sense.

There, in the chair as if she had never stalked them, was Serena. Both hands were human, and she looked _pleased_.

"Congratulations, Percy. You survived your only safe taste of Kronos' poison." Around them, everything started to dissolve into gold dust and the silent people were glaring at Serena, some of them loudly objecting to her actions while the others were trying to stay calm. Now Percy was _really_ confused at what had happened.

"And how do _you_ know what Kronos is like?" Annabeth it out as she got to her feet from where Percy had shoved her to the floor.

Serena watched them and everyone seemed to want to hear that answer. "Because, Luke was his _second_ choice."

Horror didn't come _close_ to what Percy felt at that revelation.


End file.
